Between love and magic
by Fantasydream17
Summary: Forced to move from sunny California to gloomy New England, Katniss Everdeen longs for her old life. Still they may happen magical things that will make her new life be worth it. Modern Day. AU. Hunger Games Characters, Secret Circle Story.
1. Chapter One

**Please read so you can understand and follow the story:**

**Hello and thank you to everyone for start to read my first fanfic! Well I'm from Mexico so English it's my second language so if there are any grammar mistakes you know the reason. I've read a lot of stories that change and add a lot of things to the Hunger Games, and I thought "Why not?", so after a lot of time I finally got enough courage to do it myself. And I hope you guys like it.**

**Anyway I want to point out something:**

**-First of all I do not own The Hunger games or anything that may have a connection with The Secret Circle.**

**-There are no Hunger Games and there is no Districts or Capitol or Panem. All the places that will be mentioned on the story I don't know them but they are part from other books and maps.**

**-Primrose and Katniss are not sisters but she is going to be part of the story, don't worry.**

**-Katniss and her mother don't have the cold relation like the books or the movie mention, the reason: you'll find out with the first chapters.**

**-I am going to update every Friday and in some days on Saturday, today it's the exception (Sunday) and I'm going to update no matter what happens so it's okay, I'm not going to leave the story for those who really may start to like it, still please reviews! I'd love to read what you think, I want to know what I'm doing wrong or good, and I think that's it so here it's my first fanfiction:**

**Chapter One**

It wasn't supposed to be this hot and humid on Cape Cod. Katniss had seen it in the guidebook; everything was supposed to be perfect here, like Camelot.

Except, the guidebook added absently, for the poison ivy, and ticks, and green flies, and toxic shellfish, and undercurrents in seemingly peaceful water.

The book had also warned against hiking out on narrow peninsulas because high tide could come along and strand you. But just at this moment Katniss would have given anything to be stranded on some peninsula jutting far out into the Atlantic Ocean, as long as Cashmere Crane was on the other side. Katniss had never been so miserable in her life.

"… and my other brother, the one on the MIT debate team, the one who went to the World Debate Tournament in Scotland two years ago…" Cashmere was saying. Katniss felt her eyes glaze over again and slipped back into her wretched trance. Both of Cashmere's brothers went to MIT and were frighteningly accomplished, not only at intellectual pursuits but also at athletics. Cashmere was frighteningly accomplished herself, even though she was only going to be a junior in high school this year, like Katniss. And since Cashmere's favorite subject was Cashmere, she'd spent most of the last month telling Katniss all about it.

"… and then after I placed fifth in extemporaneous speaking at the National Forensic League Championship last year, my boyfriend said, 'Well, of course you'll go All-American..."

_Just one more week_, Katniss told herself. _Just one more week and I can go home_. The very thought filled her with a longing so sharp. Home, where her friends were. Where she didn't feel like a stranger, and unaccomplished, and boring, and stupid. Where she could laugh about all this: her wonderful vacation on the eastern seaboard.

"… so my father said, 'Why don't I just buy it for you?' But I said, 'No—well, maybe…' "

Katniss stared out at the sea.

It wasn't that the Cape wasn't beautiful. The little cedar-shingled cottages, with white picket fences covered with roses and wicker rocking chairs on the porch and geraniums hanging from the rafters, were pretty as picture postcards. And the village greens and tall-steepled churches and old-fashioned schoolhouses made Katniss feel as if she'd stepped into a different time.

But every day there was Cashmere to deal with. And even though every night Katniss thought of some devastatingly witty remark to make to Cashmere, somehow she never got around to actually making any of them. And far worse than anything Cashmere could do was the plain raw feeling of not belonging. Of being a stranger here, stranded on the wrong coast, completely out of her own element. The tiny duplex back in California had started to seem like heaven to Katniss.

_'One more week_,' she thought. '_You've just got to stand it for one more week.'_

And then there was Mom, so pale lately and so quiet… A worried twinge went through Katniss, and she quickly pushed it away. Mom is fine, she told herself fiercely. She's probably just miserable here, the same way you are, even though this is her native state. She's probably counting the days until we can go home, just like you are.

Of course that was it, and that was why her mother looked so unhappy when Katniss talked about being homesick. Her mother felt guilty for bringing Katniss here, for making this place sound like a vacation paradise. Everything would be all right when they got back home, for both of them.

"Katniss! Are you listening to me? Or are you daydreaming again?"

"Oh, listening," Katniss said quickly. People had called her a dreamer, but never as around here.

"What did I just say?"

_'A lot of boring things that I don't care,' _though Katniss. But she couldn't help the shy smile that appear on her lips, thinking of how Cashmere's face would look like if she had actually told her that.

"I was saying they shouldn't let people like that on the beach," Cashmere said. "Especially not with dogs. I mean, I know this isn't Oyster Harbors, but at least it's clean. And now look." Katniss looked, following the direction of Cashmere's gaze. All she could see was some guy walking down the beach. She looked back at Cashmere confused.

"He works on a fishing boat," Cashmere said, her nostrils flared as if she smelled something bad. "I saw him this morning on the fish pier, unloading. I don't think he's even changed his clothes. How unutterably, scuzzy and vomitous."

He didn't look at all like that to Katniss. He had golden blond hair, and he was tall, and even at this distance she could see that he was smiling. There was a dog at his heels.

"We never talk to guys from the fishing boats. We don't even look at them," Cashmere said. And Katniss could see it was true. There were maybe a dozen other girls on the beach, in groups of two or three, a few with guys, most not. As the tall boy passed, the girls would look away, turning their heads to stare in the opposite direction.

It was disdainful rejection.

The two girls closest to Katniss and Cashmere were looking away now, almost sniffing. Katniss saw the boy shrug slightly, as if it were no more than he expected. She still didn't see anything so disgusting about him. He was wearing ragged cutoff shorts and a T-shirt that had seen better days, but lots of guys looked like that. And his dog trotted right behind him, tail waving, friendly and alert. It wasn't bothering anybody.

Cassie glanced up at the boy's face, curious to see his eyes.

"Look down," Cashmere whispered. The guy was passing right in front of them. Katniss hastily looked down, obeying automatically, although she felt a surge of rebellion in her heart. It seemed cheap and nasty and unnecessary and cruel. She was ashamed to be a part of it, but she couldn't help doing what Cashmere said.

She stared at her fingers trailing into the sand. She could see every granule in the bright sunlight. From far away the sand looked white, but up close it was shimmering with colors: specks of black-and-green mica, pastel shell fragments, chips of red quartz like tiny garnets.

_'Unfair_,' she thought to the boy, who of course couldn't hear her. '_I'm sorry; this just isn't fair. I wish I could do something, but I can't.'_

A wet nose thrust under her hand.

The suddenness of it made her gasp, and a giggle caught in her throat. The dog pushed at her hand again, not asking; demanding. Katniss petted it, scratching at the short, silky-bristly hairs on its nose. It was a German shepherd, intelligent brown eyes and a laughing mouth. Katniss couldn't help but laugh back at it.

Then she glanced up at the dog's owner, quickly, unable to help herself. She met his eyes directly.

Later, Katniss would think of that moment, the moment when she looked up at him and he looked down at her. His eyes were crystal blue. He was handsome, arresting and intriguing, with high cheekbones and a determined mouth. Proud and independent and humorous and sensitive all at once. As he looked down at her his grim smile lightened and something sparkled in those blue eyes, like sun glinting off the waves.

Normally Katniss didn't like to be around guys, especially guys she didn't know, but this was only some poor worker from the fishing boats, and she felt sorry for him, and she wanted to be nice, and besides she couldn't help it. It was impossible not stare at those beautiful blue eyes. And so when she felt herself start to sparkle back at him, her laughter bubbling up in response to his smile, she let it happen. In that instant it was as if they were sharing a secret, something nobody else on the beach could understand.

"Katniss," came Cashmere's fuming hiss. Katniss felt herself turn red, and she tore her eyes away from the guy's face. Cashmere was looking apoplectic.

"Raj!" the boy said, not laughing anymore. "Heel!"

With apparent reluctance, the dog backed away from Katniss, tail still wagging. Then, in a spray of sand, he bounded toward his master. '_It isn't fair_,' Katniss thought again. Then the boy's voice startled her.

"Life isn't fair," he said.

Shocked, her eyes flew up to his face.

His own eyes were as dark as the sea in a storm. She saw that clearly, and for a moment she was almost frightened, as if she had glimpsed something beyond her comprehension. But powerful. Something powerful and strange. And then he was walking away, the dog frisking behind him.

He didn't look back.

Katniss stared after him, astounded. She hadn't spoken aloud; she was sure she hadn't spoken aloud. But then how could he have heard her?

Her thoughts were shattered by a hiss at her side. Katniss let out a deep sigh, knowing exactly what Cashmere was going to say. '_That dog probably had mange and fleas and worms and scrofula'._ Katniss' towel was probably crawling with parasites right this minute. But to her surprise, Cashmere didn't say it. She too was staring after the retreating figures of the boy and dog as they went up a dune, then turned along a little path in the beach grass. And although she was clearly disgusted, there was something in her face—a sort of dark speculation and suspicion that Katniss had never seen before.

"What's the matter, Cashmere?"

Cashmere's eyes had narrowed. "I think," she said slowly, through tight lips, "that I've seen him before."

Katniss just stare at her. "You already said so. You saw him on the fish pier."

Cashmere shook her head impatiently. "Not that. Shut up and let me think." Katniss rolled her eyes. She seemed to roll her eyes a lot when she was near Cashmere.

Cashmere continued to stare, and after a few moments she began nodding, little nods to confirm something to herself. Abruptly, still nodding, she muttered something and stood up. She was breathing quickly now.

"Cashmere?"

"I've got to do something," Cashmere said, waving a hand at Katniss without looking at her. "You stay here."

"What's going on?"

"Nothing!" Cashmere glanced at her sharply. "Nothing's going on. Just forget all about it. I'll see you later." She walked off, moving quickly.

Ten minutes ago, Katniss would have said she'd be deliriously happy just to have Cashmere leave her alone, for any reason. But now she found she couldn't enjoy it. She felt agitated and distressed and almost frightened.

The strangest thing was what Cashmere had muttered before getting up. It had been under her breath, and Katniss didn't think she could have heard it right. It must have been something else, like "snitch," or "bitch," or "rich."

She must have heard it wrong. You couldn't call a guy a witch, for God's sake.

_'Calm down,'_ she told herself. '_Don't worry, be happy. You're alone at last.'_

But for some reason she couldn't relax. She stood and picked up her towel. Then, wrapping it around her, she started down the beach the way the guy had gone.

When Katniss got to the place where the boy had turned, she walked up the dunes between the pitiful little clumps of scraggly beach grass. At the top she looked around, but there was nothing to be seen but pitch pines and scrub oak trees. No boy. No dog. Silence.

She was hot. All right; fine. She turned back toward the sea, ignoring the twinge of disappointment, the strange emptiness she felt suddenly. Cashmere's problem was Cashmere's business. As for the blond-haired guy, well, she'd probably never see him again, and he wasn't her business either.

A little inside shiver went through her; not the kind that shows, but the kind that makes you wonder if you're sick. I must be too hot, she decided; hot enough that it starts to feel cold. I need a dip in the water.

The water was cool, because this was the open-Atlantic side of the Cape. She waded in up to her knees and then continued walking down the beach. When she reached a dock, she splashed out of the water and climbed up to it. Only three boats were tied there: two rowboats and a powerboat. It was deserted.

_'Perfect', _she though. It was just what she needed.

She unhooked the thick, frayed rope meant to keep people like her off the dock and walked onto it. She walked far out, the weather-beaten wood creaking beneath her feet, the water stretching out on either side of her. When she looked back at the beach, she saw she'd left the other sunbathers far behind. A little breeze blew in her face, stirring her hair and making her wet legs tingle. Suddenly she felt—she couldn't explain it. Like a balloon being caught by the wind and lifted. She felt light, she felt expanded. She felt free.

The sky and the ocean were exactly the same deep jewel-blue, except that the sky lightened down at the horizon where they met. '_Just like his eyes_'_, _the though came to her mind without permission_._

_'I should write a song_', she thought. She had a notebook full of scribbled songs at home under her bed. She hardly ever showed them to anyone, but she looked at them at night. Right now, though, she couldn't think of any words. Still, it was worth trying, the smell of the salt sea-smell and hearing the soft plashing of the water against the wooden piers.

It was a hypnotic sound, rhythmic as a giant heartbeat or the breathing of the planet, and strangely familiar. She sat and gazed and listened, and as she did she felt her own breathing slow. For the first time since she'd come to New England, she felt she belonged. She was a part of the vastness of sky and earth and sea; a tiny part in all the immensity, but a part just the same.

And slowly it came to her that her part might not be so small. She had been immersed in the rhythm of the earth, but now it seemed to her almost as if she controlled that rhythm. As if the elements were one with her, and under her command. She could feel the pulse of life in the planet, in herself, strong and deep and vibrant.

The beat slowly rising in tension and expectancy, as if waiting for… something. For what? Staring out to sea, she felt words come to her. Just a little jingle, like something you'd teach a child.

_Sky and sea, keep harm from me._

The strange thing was that it didn't feel like something she'd made up. It felt more like something she'd read or heard a long time ago. She had a brief flash of an image: being held in someone's arms, and looking at the ocean. Being held up high and hearing words.

_Sky and sea, keep harm from me. Earth and fire, bring…_

_'No.'_

Katniss' entire skin was tingling. She could sense, in a way she never had before, the arch of the sky and the granite solidity of the earth and the immeasurable span of the ocean, wave after wave after wave, to the horizon and beyond. And it was as if they were all waiting, watching, listening to her.

_''Don't finish it',_ she thought. '_Don't say any more'_. A sudden irrational conviction had taken hold of her. As long as she didn't find the last words of the poem, she was safe. Everything would be as it always had been; she would go home and live out her quiet, ordinary life in peace. As long as she could keep from saying the words, she'd be all right. But the poem was running through her mind, like the tinkling of icy music far away, and the last words fell into place. She couldn't stop them.

_Sky and sea, keep harm from me. Earth and fire, bring… my desire._

_'Yes.'_

_'Oh, what have I done ?'_

It was like a string snapping. Katniss found herself on her feet, staring wildly out at the ocean. Something had happened; she had felt it, and now she could feel the elements receding from her, their connection broken. She no longer felt light and free, but jangled and out of tune and full of static electricity. Suddenly the ocean looked more vast than ever and not necessarily friendly. Turning sharply, she headed back toward the shore.

'_Idiot,'_ she thought as she neared the white sand of the beach again and the frightened feeling slipped away_. 'What were you afraid of? That the sky and the sea were really listening to you? That those words were actually going to do something?'_

She could almost laugh at it now, and she was embarrassed and annoyed with herself. Talk about an overactive imagination. She was still safe, and the world was still ordinary. Words were only words. But when a movement caught her eye then, she would always remember that deep down she had not been surprised.

Something was happening. There was motion on the shore. It was the blond-haired guy. He'd burst out between the pitch pines and was running down the slope of a dune. Suddenly inexplicably calm, Katniss hurried the rest of the way down the dock, to meet him as he reached the sand.

The dog beside him was loping easily, looking up at the guy's face as if to say this was a great game, and what next? But from the boy's expression and the way he was running, Katniss could tell it wasn't a game.

He looked up and down the deserted beach. A hundred yards to the left a headland jutted out, so you couldn't see what was beyond. He glanced at Katniss and their eyes met. Then, turning abruptly, he started toward the headland.

Katniss' heart was beating hard.

"Wait!" she called urgently.

He turned back, scanning her quickly with his blue eyes.

"Who's after you?" she said, though she thought she knew.

His voice was crisp, his words concise. "Two guys who look like linebackers for the New York Giants."

Katniss nodded, feeling the thump of her heart accelerate. But her voice was still calm. "Their names are

Seneca and Gloss Crane."

"It figures."

"You've heard of them?"

"No. But it figures they'd be named something like that."

Katniss almost laughed. She liked the way he looked, so windblown and alert, scarcely out of breath even though he'd been running hard. And she liked the daredevil sparkle in his eyes and the way he joked even though he was in trouble.

"Raj and I could take them, but they've got a couple of friends with them," he said, turning again. Walking backward, he added, "You'd better go the other way you don't want to run into them. And it would be nice if you could pretend you hadn't seen me."

"Wait!" cried Katniss.

Whatever was going on wasn't her business… but she found herself speaking without hesitation. There was something about this guy; something that made her want to help him.

"That way's a dead end around the headland you'll run into rocks. You'll be trapped."

"But the other way's too straight. I'd still be in sight when they got here. They weren't far behind me."

Katniss' thoughts were flying, and then suddenly she knew. "Hide in the boat."

"What?"

"In the boat. In the powerboat. On the dock." She gestured at it. "You can get in the cabin and they won't see you."

His eyes followed hers, but he shook his head. "I'd really be trapped if they found me there. And Raj doesn't like to swim."

"They won't find you," Katniss said. "They won't go near it. I'll tell them you went down the beach that way."

He stared at her, the smile dying out of his eyes. "You don't understand," he said quietly. "Those guys are trouble."

"I don't care," Katniss said, and she almost pushed him toward the dock. Hurry, hurry, hurry, something in her brain was urging. "What are they going to do to me, beat me up? I'm an innocent bystander," she said.

"But—"

She rolled her eyes "Oh, please. Don't argue. Just do it!"

He stared at her one last instant, then turned, slapping his thigh for the dog. "C'mon, boy!" He ran down the dock and jumped easily into the powerboat, disappearing as he ducked into the cabin. The dog followed him in one powerful spring and barked. The two in the boat were hidden now, but if anyone went up the dock, they would be plainly visible. She hooked the loop of frayed rope over the top of the last pier, screening off the dock.

Then she cast a frantic glance around and headed for the water, splashing in. Bending down, she dug up a handful of wet sand and shells. She let the water wash the sand out of the loose cage of her fingers and held on to the two or three small shells that remained. She reached for another handful.

She heard shouting from the dunes.

_'I'm gathering shells, I'm only gathering shells,'_ she thought_. 'I don't need to look up yet. I'm not concerned.'_

"Hey!"

Katniss looked up.

There were four of them, and the two in front were Cashmere's brothers. Gloss was the one on the debate team and Seneca was the one in the Pistol Club. Or was it the other way around?

"Hey, did you see a guy come running this way?" Gloss asked. They were looking in all directions, excited like dogs on a scent, and suddenly another line of the song came to Katniss.

_Four lean hounds crouched low and smiling._

Except that these guys weren't lean; they were brawny and sweaty. And out of breath, Cassie noticed, vaguely contemptuous.

"It's Cashmere's friend… Catnip," **(I know that's Gale's nickname, but I need it to use it, You'll found out later) **said Seneca. "Hey, Catnip, did a guy just go running down here?"

Katniss walked toward him slowly, her fists full of shells. Her heart was knocking against her ribs so hard she was sure they could see it, and her tongue was frozen.

"Can't you talk? What're you doing here?"

Mutely, Katniss held out her hands, opening them.

They exchanged glances and snorts, and Katniss realized how she must look to these college-age guys, a slight girl with unremarkable brown hair and grey eyes. Just a little high-school ditz from California whose idea of a good time was picking up worthless shells.

"Did you see somebody go past here?" Gloss said, impatient but slow, as if she might be hard of hearing. Dry-mouthed, Katniss nodded, and looked down the beach toward the headland. Jordan was wearing an open windbreaker over his T-shirt, which seemed odd in such warm weather. What was even odder was the bulge beneath it, but when he turned, Katniss saw the glint of metal.

_'A gun, Gloss must be the one in the Pistol Club,'_ she thought irrelevantly and swallow hard.

Now that she saw something really to be scared about, she found her voice again and said huskily, "A guy and a dog went that way a few minutes ago."

"We've got him! He'll be stuck on the rocks!" Seneca said. He and the two guys Katniss didn't know started down the beach, but Gloss turned back to Katniss.

"Are you sure?"

Startled, she looked up at him. '_Why is he asking?'_ She deliberately widened her eyes and tried to look as childish and stupid as possible. "Yes…"

"Because it's important." And suddenly he was holding her wrist. Katniss looked down at it in amazement, her shells scattering, too surprised at being grabbed to say anything. "It's very important," Gloss said, and she could feel the tension running through his body, could smell the acridity of his sweat.

A wave of revulsion swept through her, and she struggled to keep her face blank and wide-eyed. She was afraid he was going to pull her up against him, but he just twisted her wrist.

She didn't mean to cry out, but she couldn't help it. It was partly pain and partly a reaction to something she saw in his eyes, something fanatical and ugly and hot like fire. She found herself gasping, more afraid than she could remember being since she was a child.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said, breathless, staring into that ugliness without letting herself look away. "He went down there and around the headland."

"Come on, Gloss, leave her alone!" Seneca shouted. "She's just a kid. Let's go!"

Gloss hesitated. '_He knows I'm lying,' _Katniss thought, with a curious fascination. '_Believe me,_' she thought, gazing straight back at him, willing him to do it. '_Believe me and go away_.'

_'Please, Believe me. Believe me.' _He let go of her wrist.

"Sorry," he muttered ungraciously, and he turned and loped off with the others.

"Sure," Katniss whispered, standing very still.

Tingling, she watched them jog across the wet sand, elbows and knees pumping, Gloss's wind-breaker flapping loose behind him. The weakness spread from her stomach to her legs, and her knees suddenly felt like jelly.

She was aware, all at once, of the sound of the ocean again. A comforting sound that seemed to enfold her. When the four running figures turned the corner and disappeared from her sight, she turned back to the dock, meaning to tell the blond-haired guy that he could come out now. But he already had.

Slowly, she made her jellied legs carry her to the dock. He was just standing there, and the look on his face made her feel strange.

"You'd better get out of here, or maybe hide again," she said hesitantly. "They might come right back…"

"I don't think so."

"Well…" Katniss faltered, looking at him, feeling almost frightened. "Your dog was very good," she offered uncertainly, at last. "I mean, not barking or anything."

"He knows better."

"Oh." Katniss looked down the beach, trying to think of something else to say. His voice was gentle, not harsh, but that keen look never left his eyes and his mouth was grim. "I guess they really are gone now," she said.

"Thanks to you," he said. He turned to her, and their eyes met. "I don't know how to thank you," he added, "for putting up with that for me. You don't even know me."

Katniss felt even more queer. Looking up at him made her almost dizzy, but she couldn't take her eyes from his. There was no sparkle now; they looked like blue steel. Compelling and hypnotic. Drawing her closer, drawing her in.

In that instant a strange image flashed through her mind. It was as if she were floating outside herself and she could see the two of them, standing there on the beach. They were connected by a silver cord that hummed and sang with power. A band of energy. Linking them. It was so real she could almost reach out and touch it. It bound them heart to heart, and it was trying to draw them closer.

A thought came to her, as if some small voice from deep inside her was speaking: _'The silver cord can never be broken. Your lives are linked. You can't escape each other any more than you can escape destiny.'_

Suddenly, as quickly as it had come, the picture and the voice vanished. Katniss blinked and shook her head, trying to wrench her mind back. He was still looking at her, waiting for an answer to his question.

"I was glad to help you," she said, feeling how lame and inadequate the words were. "And I didn't mind what happened." His eyes dropped to her wrist, and there was a flash from them almost like silver.

"I did," he said. "I should have come out earlier."

Katniss shook her head again. The last thing she'd wanted was for him to be caught and hurt. "I just wanted to help you," she repeated softly, confused. Then she said, "Why were they chasing you?"

He looked away, drawing in a deep breath. Katniss had the sense of trespassing. "That's all right. I shouldn't have asked—" she began.

"No." He looked back at her and smiled, 'Such a beautiful smile', she though.

"If anybody has a right to ask, you do. But it's a little difficult to explain. I'm… off my turf here. Back home, they wouldn't dare come after me. They wouldn't dare look at me cross-eyed. But here I'm fair game."

She still didn't understand. "They don't like people who are—different," he said, his voice quiet again. "And I'm different from them. I'm very, very different."

_'Definitely_,' she thought. Whatever he was, he wasn't like Gloss or Seneca. He wasn't like anyone she had ever met.

"I'm sorry. That's not much of an explanation, I know," he said. "Especially after what you did. You helped me, and I won't forget about it."

He glanced down at himself and laughed shortly. "Of course, it doesn't look like there's much I can do for you, does it? Not here. Although…" He paused. "Wait a minute."

He reached in his pocket, fingers groping for something. Katniss just stood there. Then he pulled out of his pocket was a stone, a rock like something you might pick up on the ocean floor. At least that was what it looked like at first. One side was rough and gray, embedded with tiny black spirals like little shells. But then he turned it over, and the other side was gray swirled with pale blue, crystallized, sparkling in the sunlight as if it were overlaid with rock candy.

It was beautiful.

He pressed it into her palm, closing her fingers around it. As it touched her she felt a jolt like electricity that ran through her hand and up her arm. The stone felt alive in some way she couldn't explain. Through the pounding in her ears she heard him speaking, quickly and in a low voice.

"This is chalcedony. It's a… good-luck piece. If you're ever in trouble or danger or anything like that, if there's ever a time when you feel all alone and no one else can help you, hold on to it tight—tight"—his fingers squeezed hers—"and think of me."

_'I'll always be thinking on you… What!?'_ she wave her head a slight shake. _'What the hell are you thinking!?',_ she had never think of a guy like that, but she didn't care,her mind was spinning and she couldn't think coherently, she was hardly breathing, and her chest felt too full. He was so close to her; she could see his eyes, the same color as the crystal, and she could feel his breath on her skin and the warmth of his body reflecting the sun's heat. His hair wasn't just blond, but all sorts of colors, some strands so dark they were ashy, others with slight touches of red, and others gold.

_'Different_,' she thought again; he was different from any guy she'd ever known. A sweet hot current was running through her, a feeling of wildness and possibility that she'd never felt before. She was trembling, she could tell. He was so close and he was looking down at her with his big blue eyes…

"And what happens then?" she barely whispered.

"And then, maybe your luck will change." Abruptly he stepped back, as if he'd just remembered something, and his tone altered. The moment was over. "It's worth a try, don't you think?" he said lightly.

Unable to speak, she nodded. He was teasing now. But he hadn't been before.

"I've got to go. I shouldn't have stayed this long," he said.

Katniss swallowed. "You'd better be careful. I think Gloss had a gun…"

"Wouldn't surprise me." He brushed it off. He give her a dizzy smile."Don't worry; I'm leaving the Cape. For now, anyway. I'll be back; maybe I'll see you then."

He started to turn. Then he paused one last moment and took her hand again. Katniss was too startled at the feeling of his skin against hers to do anything about it. He turned her hand over and looked at the red marks on her wrist, then brushed them lightly with his fingertips, she could fell fire whenever he touched.

The steely light was back in his eyes when he looked up. "And believe me," he whispered, "he'll pay for this someday. I guarantee it."

And then he did something that shocked Katniss more than anything else had during that whole shocking day. He lifted her wounded hand to his lips and kissed it. It was the gentlest, the lightest of touches, and it went through Katniss like fire. She stared at him, dazed and unbelieving, utterly speechless. She could neither move nor think. She only stood there feeling.

A slight blush appear on her cheeks, she could feel it. She hardly ever blush especially in front of a stranger, '_But he isn't a stranger' _she thought stubbornly.

And then he was leaving, whistling for the dog, which romped around Katniss in circles before finally breaking away. She was alone, gazing after him, her fingers clenched tightly on the small rough stone in her palm.

It was only then she realized she'd never asked him his name.

**That was the First chapter, What do you think? Good? Bad? Should I change something? Suggestions? PLEASE REVIEWS!**


	2. Chapter Two

**Hey everyone! Thanks for those who review and add my story to favorite! Thanks for that I really thought that you guys would think that it was boring but a few persons don't and thank you! It really made my week. This chapter it may not be good, in this one she moves to New Salem but on the next one Katniss starts school. As for the crystal blue eyes guy and Gloss and Seneca, you'll find out on Chapter Six! Please review!**

**Well as I said I'll update every Friday so here we go:**

**Chapter two**

An instant later Katniss came out of her trance. '_I should get out of here_',she thought, Gloss and Seneca might be coming back any time. And if they find out that she'd lied to them…

Once that she was moving, the world around her seemed ordinary again, no longer magic and mystery. It was as she'd been moving in a dream and now she'd woken up. She could almost laugh at the memory of what she had been thinking, nonsense about silver cords and destiny, it was all ridiculous; and as for the guy, well of course there was no way that he could have read her thoughts. The stone it was just a stone and words were just words.

Her hand was tingling where he'd held it, and the skin he touched with his fingertips felt different from any other part of her body, no matter what; she would always fell his touch.

Once inside the summer cottage she and her mother rented. When she was inside, she stop for a moment, she could hear her mother's voice from the kitchen, and she could tell for the sound that she was on the phone and something was wrong.

Katniss slowly got closer.

She could see the silhouette of her mother, and while Katniss watched she couldn't help but wonder how was possible that they were related, they were so different; her mother with soft blond hair, shinny blue eyes and pale skin, she could be a teenager herself; while she had dark brown hair, grey eyes and olive skin; sometimes she could almost felt as if she were the mother and her mother the child. She was protective with her mother.

She decide not interrupt her mother's conversation. Mrs. Everdeen was upset, and all she said was "yes" or "I know"; and it was with a low whisper. Katniss turned and went to her bedroom.

Katniss walked to the window and looked at it, wondering vaguely what was going on with her mother. But all those thoughts banished away and they were replaced with the boy on the beach. All she could think was him and she didn't know why. _'Maybe you are still worried about him'_, she thought to herself, _'just stop thinking of him, you are not going to see him again that's for sure, you don't know where to find him and you don't even know his name '_

She let out a sigh, now she was upset, she didn't know him and she was sure that she would never see him again, and beside she was going home in a week. That was the first time that she was sad for going home.

"Just a week and I'll be home", she whispered to herself.

"Katniss? Did you say something?" a voice behind her asked.

She turned around to find her mother on the door; she didn't know she was already there.

"Nothing, just saying that in a week we are going back to California", she answered. Her mother give her a sad look. "What's going on?" she asked.

Mrs. Everdeen let out a deep breath. "I was just talking to your grandmother. Do you remember how I was planning for us to drive up and see her next week?"

Katniss remembered very well, she had told Cashmere that she and her mother were going to drive up the coast, and Cashmere had snapped that it wasn't called the coast here. From Boston down to the Cape it was the south shore, and from Boston up to New Hampshire it was the north shore, and if you were going to Maine it was down east, and anyway, where did her grandmother live? And Katniss hadn't been able to answer because her mother had never told her the name of the town.

"Yes" she said "I remember"

"Well I just got off the phone with her. She is old and she's worse than what I thought"

"Oh mom, I'm sorry", Katniss told her mother, she had never met her grandmother and her mother didn't talk about her past and Katniss never ask about it. "I am really sorry, is she going to be okay?"

"I don't know, she is all alone in a big house and she's lonely… sometimes it's hard for her to be around. Your grandmother and I have had our problems, but we're still family, and she hasn't got anyone else. It's time we buried our differences."

Katniss didn't know what to say, so she just stood there, watching her mother; she had a bad feeling.

"Katniss, I've thought a lot about this, and there's only one thing for us to do. And I'm sorry, because it will mean such a disruption of your life, and it will be so hard on you… but you're young. You'll adapt. I know you will."

A twinge of panic shot through Katniss. "Mom, it's all right," she said quickly. "You stay here and do what you need to. I can get ready for school by myself. It'll be easy; Beth and Mrs. Freeman will help me—" Katniss' mother was shaking her head, and suddenly Katniss felt she had to go on, to cover everything in a rush of words. "I don't need that many new school clothes…"

"Katniss, I'm so sorry. I need you to try and understand, sweetheart, and to be adult about this. I know you'll miss your friends. But we've both got to try to make the best of things." Her mother's eyes were fixed on the window, as if she couldn't bear to look at Katniss.

Katniss went very still. "Mom, what are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying we're not going home, or at least not back to Reseda. We're going to myhome, to move in with your grandmother. She needs us. We're going to stay here."

Katniss felt nothing but a dazed numbness. She could only say stupidly, as if this were what mattered, "Where's 'here'? Where does Grandma live?"

For the first time her mother turned from the window. Her eyes seemed bigger and darker than Katniss had ever seen them before.

"New Salem," she said quietly. "The town is called New Salem."

_Line break_

Hours later, Katniss was still sitting by the window, staring blankly. Her mind was running in helpless, useless circles. To stay here… to stay in New England… An electric shock ran through her.

Him.

I knew we'd see him again, something inside her proclaimed, and it was glad. But it was only one voice and there were many others, all speaking at once.

'_To stay.'_ She thought,_ 'Not going home. And what difference does it make if the guy is here in Massachusetts somewhere? You don't know his name or where he lives. You'll never find him again.'_

'_But there's a chance._' she thought desperately. And the voice deepest inside, the one that had been glad before, whispered: '_More than a chance. It's your fate_.'

'_Fate!'_ the other voices scoffed. _'Don't be ridiculous! It's your fate to spend your junior year in _

_New England, that's all. Where you don't know anyone. Where you'll be alone.'_

_Alone, alone, alone, all the other voices agreed._

The deep voice was crushed and disappeared. Katniss felt any hope of seeing the blond-haired boy again slip away from her. What she was left with was despair.

I won't even get to say good-bye to my friends at home, she thought. She'd begged her mother for the chance to go back, just to say good-bye. But Mrs. Blake had said there was no money and no time.

Their airline tickets would be cashed in. All their things would be shipped to Katniss' grandmother's house by a friend of her mother's.

"If you went back," her mother had said gently, "you'd only feel worse about leaving again. This way at least it will be a clean break. And you can see your friends next summer."

Next summer? Next summer was a hundred years away. Katniss thought of her friends: good-natured Beth and quiet Lavinia, and Purnia the class wit. Add to that shy and dreamy Katniss and you had their group. So maybe they weren't the in-crowd, but they had fun and they'd stuck together since elementary school. How would she get along without them until next summer?

But her mother's voice had been so soft and distracted, and her eyes had wandered around the room in such a vague, preoccupied way, that Katniss hadn't had the heart to rant and rave the way she would have liked.

In fact, for an instant Katniss had wanted to go to her mother and throw her arms around her and tell her everything would be all right. But she couldn't. The small, hot coal of resentment burning in her chest wouldn't let her. However worried her mother might be, she didn't have to face the prospect of going to a strange new school in a state three thousand miles from where she belonged.

Katniss did.

New hallways, new lockers, new classrooms, new desks, she thought. New faces instead of the friends she'd known since junior high. Oh, it couldn't be true.

Katniss hadn't screamed at her mother this afternoon, and she hadn't hugged her, either. She had just silently turned away to the window, and this was where she'd been sitting ever since, while the light slowly faded and the sky turned first salmon pink and then violet and then black.

It was a long time before she went to bed. And it was only then that she realized she'd forgotten all about the chalcedony lucky piece. She reached out and took it from the nightstand and slipped it under her pillow.

_Line break_

Cashmere stopped by as Katniss and her mother were loading the rental car.

"Going home?" she said.

Katniss gave her tote bag a final push to squeeze it into the trunk. She had just realized she didn't want Cashmere to find out she was staying in New England. She couldn't stand to have Cashmere know of her unhappiness; it would give Cashmere a kind of triumph over her. Something that she would never do.

When she looked up, she had her best attempt at a pleasant smile in place. "Yes," she said, and flicked a quick glance over to where her mother was leaning in the driver's-side door, arranging things in the backseat.

"I thought you were staying until the end of next week."

"We changed our minds." She looked into Cashmere's hazel eyes and was startled by the coldness there.

"Not that I didn't have a good time. It's been fun," Katniss added, hastily and foolishly.

Cashmere shook her blond hair off her forehead. "Maybe you'd better stay out west from now on," she said. "Around here, we don't like liars."

Katniss opened her mouth and then shut it again, cheeks flaming. She resist the urge to jump and scream at her but she didn't, instead she wondered, how did they know about her deception on the beach? This was the time for one of those devastatingly witty remarks that she thought of at night to say to Cashmere, and, of course, she couldn't summon up a word. She pressed her lips together.

"Have a nice trip," Cashmere concluded, and with one last cold glance, she turned away.

Katniss let her go.

_Line break_

Green. That's what Katniss noticed on the drive north from the Cape. There was a forestgrowing on either side of the highway. '_Maybe this place won't be so bad._' Katniss thought.

Katniss loved the trees; that was where she used to spend most of her time so she could practice with her bow and arrow; and her favorite color was green. In California you had to go to a national park to see trees this tall…

"Isn't there a faster way?" she said, opening the glove compartment and pulling out a map supplied by the car rental company. "Why don't we take Route 1? Or Interstate 95?"

Her mother kept her eyes on the road. "It's been a long time since I drove up here, Katniss. This is the way I know."

"But if you cut over here at Salem…" Katniss watched the exit go by. "Okay, don't," she said. Of all places in Massachusetts, Salem was the only one she could think of that she wanted to see. Its macabre history appealed to her mood right now. "That's where they burned the witches, isn't it?" she said. "Is New Salem named for it? Did they burn witches there, too?"

"They didn't burn anyone; they hanged them. And they weren't witches. Just innocent people who happened to be disliked by their neighbors." Her mother's voice was tired and patient. "And Salem was a common name in colonial times; it comes from 'Jerusalem.' "

The map was blurring before Katniss' eyes. "Where is this town, anyway? It's not even listed," she said.

There was a brief silence before her mother replied. "It's a small town; quite often it's not shown on maps. But as a matter of fact, it's on an island."

"An island?"

"Don't worry. There's a bridge to the mainland."

But all Cassie could think was_, 'An __island__. I'm going to live on an island. In a town that isn't even on the map.'_

___Line break_

The road was unmarked. Mrs. Everdeen turned down it and the car crossed the bridge, and then they were on the island. Katniss had expected it to be tiny, and her spirits lifted a little when she saw that it wasn't. There were regular stores, not just tourist shops, clustered together in what must be the center of town.

There was a Dunkin' Donuts and an International House of Pancakes with a banner proclaiming grand opening. In front of it there was someone dressed up like a giant pancake, dancing. Katniss felt the knot in her stomach loosen. Any town with a dancing pancake couldn't be all bad, could it?

But then her mother turned onto another road that rose and got lonelier and lonelier as the town fell behind.

They must be going to the ultimate point of the headland, Katniss realized. She could see it, the sun glinting red off the windows on a group of houses at the top of a bluff. She watched them get closer, at first uneasily, then anxiously, and finally with sick dismay.

Because they were _old_. Terrifyingly old, not just quaint or gracefully aged, but _ancient_. And although some were in good repair, others looked as if they might fall over in a crash of splintering timbers any minute.

'_Please let it be that one,_' Katniss thought, fixing her eyes on a pretty yellow house with several towers and bay windows. But her mother drove by it without slowing. And by the next and the next. And then there was only one house left, the last house on the bluff, and the car was heading toward it.

Heartsick, Katniss stared at it as they approached. It was shaped like a thick upside-down T, with one wing facing the road and one wing sticking straight out the back. As they came around the side Katniss could see that the back wing looked nothing like the front. It had a steeply sloping roof and small, irregularly placed windows made of tiny, diamond-shaped panes of glass. It wasn't even painted, just covered with weathered gray clapboard siding.

The front wing had been painted… once. Now what was left was peeling off in strips. The two chimneys looked crumbling and unstable, and the entire slate roof seemed to sag. The windows were regularly placed across the front, but most looked as if they hadn't been washed in ages.

Katniss stared wordlessly. She had never seen a more depressing house in her life. '_This __couldn't __be the one.'_

"Well," said her mother, in that tone of forced cheerfulness, as she turned into a gravel driveway, "this is it, the house I grew up in. We're home."

Katniss couldn't speak. The bubble of horror and fury and resentment inside her was swelling bigger and bigger until she thought it would explode.

Her mother was still talking in that falsely bright way, but Katniss could only hear snatches of the words. "… original wing actually Prerevolutionary, one-and-a-half stories… front wing are Post-revolutionary Georgian…"

It went on and on. Katniss clawed open the car door, getting an unobstructed view of the house at last.

The more she saw of it, the worse it looked. '_This can't be true_,' she thought '_this has to be a joke.'_

But it wasn't a joke and she knew that, she also knew that there wasn't anything she could do about it and she'll have to resign.

Then she heard a noise. She turned and also did her mother, there was an old woman with white hair and blue eyes on the doorway.

Her mother was gazing at the door. And slowly, a look of dull resignation settled over her. When she turned to Katniss, the brittle, falsely cheery tone was back in her voice.

"That's your grandmother, dear," she said. "Let's not keep her waiting."

The woman standing in the doorway was ancient. Old enough to be her great-grandmother, at least. Katniss tried to detect some resemblance to her mother, but she could find none.

"Katniss, this is your Grandma Howard."

Katniss managed to mutter something. The old woman with the cane stepped forward, fixing her deep-set eyes on Katniss' face. In that instant a bizarre thought flashed into Katniss' mind: '_She's going to put me_ _in the oven_.' But then she felt arms around her, a surprisingly firm hug. Mechanically she lifted her own arms in a gesture of response.

Her grandmother pulled back to look at her. "Katniss! At last. After all these years." To Katniss'

discomfiture she went on looking, staring at Katniss with what seemed like a mixture of fierce worry and anxious hope. "At last," she whispered again, as if speaking to herself.

"It's good to see you, Mother," Katniss' mother said then, quiet and formal.

"Lillian. Oh, my dear, it's been too long." The two women embraced, but an indefinable air of tension remained between them.

"But we're all standing here outside. Come in, come in, both of you," her grandmother said, wiping her eyes. "I'm afraid the old place is rather shabby, but I've picked the best of the rooms for you. Let's take Katniss to hers."

In the fading red light of the sunset the interior seemed cavernous and dark. And everything did look shabby, from the worn upholstery on the chairs to the faded oriental carpet on the pine-board floors.

To Katniss It looked exactly like the houses on the terror movies.

"These lamps—it's your grandfather's wiring," her grandmother apologized. "He insisted on doing so much of it himself. Here's your room, Katniss. I know you like green."

Katniss felt her eyes widen as her grandmother opened the door. It was like a bedroom setting in a museum. The room was light green, there was a four-poster bed with hangings cascading from the head and foot and a canopy, all made of the same dusty-green flowered fabric, in the middle of the room and right next to it was a night table that was made of mahogany. There was a big window with couch so you could seat and watch. On the opposite there was desk and a chair and to the right it was the closet. And to the other side of the room it was a white desk with drawers and a mirror on the top **(I don't remember the name)** and next to it was another window.

It would be perfect if it wasn't so big...

"I think that you may like the view of the windows because you can see both south and east. I'll leave you alone so you can get settled." Said her grandmother, then she turned, "Lillian, I've given you the blue room at the opposite end of the hallway".

And just like that they left Katniss alone.

She sat on the window and stare at the ocean, she felt better. She didn't know how long she sat there, but sometime later she found the piece of chalcedony in her hand. She must have taken it out of her pocket, and now she was clinging to it.

'_If you're ever in trouble or danger,'_ she thought, and a wave of longing swept over her. It was followed by a wave of fury. '_Don't be stupid,'_ she told herself sharply. _'You're not in danger. And no rock is going to help you._' She had an impulse to throw it away, but instead she just rubbed it against her cheek, feeling the cool, jagged smoothness of the crystals. It made her remember his touch—how gentle it had been, the way it had pierced her to the soul. Daringly, she rubbed the crystal over her lips and felt a sudden throb from all the places on her skin he had touched. The hand he had held—she could still feel his fingers printed on her palm. Her wrist—she felt the light brush of cool fingertips raising the hairs there. And the back of it… She shut her eyes and her breath caught as she remembered that kiss. What would it have felt like, she wondered, if his lips had touched where the crystal touched now? She let her head fall back, drawing the cool stone from her own lips down her throat to rest in the hollow where her pulse beat. She could almost feel him kissing her, as no boy ever had; she could almost imagine that it really was his lips there. _'I would let you,'_ she thought, _'even though I wouldn't let anyone else… I would trust you…'_

But he'd left her. Suddenly, with a shock, she remembered that. He'd left her and gone away, just as the other most important man in Katniss' life had.

Katniss seldom thought about her father. She seldom allowed herself to. He'd gone away when she was only a little girl, left her mother and her alone to take care of themselves. Katniss mother told people he had died, but to Katniss she admitted the truth: he'd simply left. Maybe he was dead by now, or maybe he was somewhere else, with another family, another daughter. She and her mother would never know. And although her mother never spoke about him unless someone asked, Katniss knew that he'd broken her mother's heart.

'_Men always leave,'_ Cassie thought, her throat aching. _'They both left me. And now I'm alone… here. If only I had somebody else to talk to… a sister, somebody…'_

Eyes still shut, she let the hand with the crystal trail down and fall into her lap. She was so exhausted with emotion that she couldn't even get up to go to the bed. She simply sat there, drifting in the lonely dimness until her breathing slowed and she fell asleep.

_Line Break_

That night Katniss had a dream—or perhaps it wasn't a dream. She dreamed that her mother and grandmother came into the room, moving noiselessly, almost gliding over the floor. In her dream she was aware of them, but she couldn't move as they lifted her from the chair and undressed her and put her to bed. Then they stood over the bed, looking down at her. Her mother's eyes were strange and dark and unfathomable.

"Little Katniss," her grandmother said with a sigh. "At last. But what a pity—"

"Sh!" her mother said sharply. "She'll wake up."

Her grandmother sighed again. "But you can see that it's the only way…"

"Yes," her mother said, her voice empty and resigned. "I can see that you can't escape destiny. I

shouldn't have tried."

'_That's just what I thought,'_ Katniss realized as the dream faded. _'You can't escape destiny.'_ Vaguely she could see her mother and grandmother moving toward the door, and she could hear the whisper of their voices. She couldn't make out any words, though, until one sibilant hiss came through.

"… sacrifice . . ."

She wasn't sure which of the women had said it, but it echoed over and over in her mind. Even as darkness covered her, she kept hearing it. Sacrifice… sacrifice… sacrifice…

_Line break_

It was morning. She was lying in the four-poster bed and sunlight was streaming in the eastern window. It made the green room look like a leafs held up to the light. Sort of warm and shining.

Somewhere outside a bird was singing.

Katniss sat up. She had a confused memory of some kind of a dream, but it was dim and vague. Her nose was stuffed up—probably from crying—and she felt a little lightheaded but not really bad. She felt the way you do after being very sick or very upset and then getting some deep, restful sleep: strangely spacey and peaceful. The quiet after the storm. She got dressed. Just as she was about to leave the room, she noticed the chalcedony lucky piece on the floor and slipped it in her pocket.

No one else seemed to be awake. Even in the daytime the long passage was dark and cool, lit only by the windows at opposite ends. Katniss found herself shivering as she walked down the hall, and the dim bulbs of the wall lamps flickered as if in sympathy.

Downstairs was lighter. But there were so many rooms that when she tried to explore, she quickly got lost. Finally, she ended up in the front hallway and decided to go outside.

She wasn't even thinking about why—she guessed she wanted to see the neighborhood. Her steps took her down the long, narrow country road, past house after house. It was so early, no one else was outside. And eventually she ended up at the pretty yellow house with the towers.

High in one tower, the window was sparkling.

Katniss was staring at it, wondering why, when she noticed motion in a ground-floor window much closer to her. It was a library or study, and standing inside was a girl. The girl was tall and slender, with an incredibly long cascade of hair that obscured her face as she bent over something on the desk in front of the window. That hair—Katniss couldn't take her eyes off it. It was like moonlight and sunlight woven together—and it was natural. No dark roots. Katniss had never seen anything so beautiful.

They were so close—Katniss standing just behind the neat hedge outside the window, and the girl standing just inside, facing her, but looking down. Katniss watched, fascinated, at what the girl was doing at the desk. The girl's hands moved gracefully, grinding something up with a mortar and pestle. Spices?

Whatever it was, the girl's movements were quick and deft and her hands slender and pretty.

And Katniss had the oddest feeling… _'If the girl would only look up, she thought. Just look outside her own window. Once she did, then… something would happen.'_ Katniss didn't know what, but her skin had broken out in gooseflesh. She had such a sense of connection, of… kinship. If the girl would just look up…

But she didn't, she saw movement again. The girl with the shining hair was turning, as if responding to someone inside the house calling her.

Katniss had a glimpse of a lovely, dewy face—but only for the briefest instant. Then the girl had turned and was hurrying away, hair flying like silk behind her.

'What was I thinking? Fine way to introduce yourself, watching them like a stalker. Great done!' She thought, 'Since when did I start to be friendlily?' She had never like it to be like that. Just the thought of being around a lot of people and be center of attention make her feel sick. That's why she was always with Beth. Lavinia and Purnia were always together and one day they started to talk to Katniss and Beth, since then they were friends but she like it better Beth. They were alike. They seldom talked but it was okay for they.

Her grandmother's flat, square house looked even worse after the sunny Victorian one. Disconsolately, Katniss drifted over to the bluff, to look down at the ocean. Blue. A color so intense she didn't know how to describe it. She watched the water washing around a

dark rock and felt a queer thrill. The wind blew her hair back, and she stared out at the morning sun glittering on the waves. She felt… kinship again. As if something were speaking to her blood, to something deep inside her. What was it about this place—about that girl? She felt she could almost grasp it…

"Katniss!"

Startled, Katniss looked around. Her grandmother was calling from the doorway of the old wing of the house. "Are you all right? For heaven's sake, get away from the edge!"

Katniss looked down and immediately felt a wave of vertigo. Her toes were almost off the bluff.

"I didn't realize I was that close," she said, stepping back.

Her grandmother stared at her, then nodded. "Well, come away now and I'll get you some breakfast," she said. "Do you like pancakes?"

Feeling a little shy, Katniss nodded. She had some vague memory about a dream that made her uncomfortable, but she definitely felt better this morning than she had yesterday. She followed her grandmother through the door, which was much thicker and heavier than a modern one.

"The front door of the original house," her grandmother explained. She didn't seem to be having much trouble with her leg today, Katniss noticed. "Strange to have it lead directly into the kitchen, isn't it? But that was how they did things in those days. Sit down, why don't you, while I make the pancakes."

But Katniss was staring in amazement. The kitchen was like no kitchen she'd ever seen before. There was a gas range and a refrigerator—even a microwave shoved back on a wooden counter—but the rest of it was like something out of a movie set. Dominating the room was an enormous open fireplace as big as a walk-in closet, and although there was no fire now, the thick layer of ashes at the bottom showed that it was sometimes used. Inside, an iron pot hung on an iron crossbar. Over the fireplace were sprays of dried flowers and plants, which gave off a pleasant fragrance. And as for the woman in front of the hearth…

Grandmothers were supposed to be pink and cozy, with soft laps and large checking accounts. This woman looked stooped and coarse, with her grizzled hair and the prominent mole on her cheek. Katniss kept half expecting her to go over to the iron pot and stir it while muttering,

"Double, double, toil and trouble…"

Immediately after she thought this, she felt ashamed. '_That's your grandmother,'_ she told herself fiercely.

'_Your only living relative besides your mother. It's not her fault she's old and different. So don't just sit here. Say something nice.'_

"Oh, thanks," she said, as her grandmother placed a plate of steaming pancakes in front of her. Then she added, "Uh, are those dried flowers over the fireplace? They smell good."

"Lavender and hyssop," her grandmother said. "When you're done eating, I'll show you my garden, if you like."

"I'd love it," Katniss said, truthfully.

But when her grandmother led her outside after she'd finished eating, the scene was far different than Katniss had expected. There was a huge tree on one side, and around the garden there were a lot of flowers and it was covered with grass. It looked like a fairy tale.

"Oh—how nice," Katniss said. Maybe the house wasn't so ugly after all. "What unusual—plants."

Her grandmother shot her a shrewd, amused glance. "They're herbs," she said. "Here, this is lemon balm. Smell."

Katniss took the heart-shaped leaf, wrinkled like a mint leaf but a little bigger, and sniffed. It had the scent of freshly peeled lemon. "That is nice," she said, surprised.

"And this is French sorrel—taste." Katniss gingerly took the small, rounded leaf and nibbled at the end. The taste was sharp and refreshing.

"It's good—like sour grass!" she said, looking up at her grandmother, who smiled. "What are those?" Katniss said, nibbling again as she pointed to some bright yellow buttons of flowers.

"That's tansy. The ones that look like white daisies are feverfew. Feverfew leaves are good in salads." Katniss was intrigued. "What about those?" She pointed to some creamy white flowers that twined up other bushes.

"Honeysuckle. I keep it just because it smells good. The bees love it, and the butterflies. In spring it's like Grand Central Station around here."

Katniss reached out to snap off a fragrant stem of delicate flower buds, then stopped. "Could I—I thought I'd take some up for my room. If you don't mind, I mean."

"Oh, good heavens, take as many as you want. That's what they're here for." _'She's not really old and ugly at all,'_ Katniss thought, snapping off stems of the creamy flowers. _'She's just different. Different doesn't necessarily mean bad.'_

"Thanks—Grandma," she said as they went back into the house. Then she opened her mouth again, to ask about the yellow house, and who lived there.

But her grandmother was picking up something from beside the microwave. "Here, Katniss. This came in the mail for you yesterday." She handed Katniss two booklets bound in construction paper, one red and one white.

New Salem High School Student and Parent Handbook, one read. The other read, New Salem High School Program of Studies.

'_Oh, my God,_' Katniss thought. _'School.'_

New hallways, new lockers, new classrooms, new faces. There was a slip of paper between the

booklets, with Schedule of Classes printed boldly at the top. And under that, her name, with her address listed as Number Twelve Crowhaven Road, New Salem. Her grandmother might not be as bad as she'd thought; even the house might turn out to be not so awful.

But what about school? How could she ever face school here in New Salem?

**What do you think? Please review! If you want to know something about the story ask me on a review and I'll answered with my author note! Please continue reading my story!**

**Lots of love**

**Mar**


	3. Chapter Three

**Hey everyone! So, it's FRIDAY! Which means update! Thanks for your support and interest on my story, a special thanks to my friends, for their help and inspiration. And also I want to give thanks to ****HGROCKSNEW, for her support and interest on my story since the beginning. She is one of the reasons that I keep writing. So, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to her. Hope you guys like it, and please review! Here we go:**

**Chapter Three**

Katniss woke up with the sound of the alarm clock. After turn it off, she just lie in her bed. She didn't wanted to move, but somehow she manage to get up and go to the shower, after about half hour she go out of the bathroom already dressed and she was braiding her hair, after she finished she stood in front of the mirror.

She was wearing a light blue blouse, dark jeans and her hunting boots. Somehow it calmed her. She could not help but being nervous, it seemed ridiculous to her but all she do it was take her jacket and backpack and head downstairs.

On the kitchen there was her grandmother, she wondered where her mother was but after she could ask her grandmother spoke:

"Hello dear, your breakfast it's on the table but I'm afraid that your mother won't be able to join us. She has the flu, but it's nothing to worry about. She'll be okay"

"Oh. Thanks." She manage a smile to her grandmother witch she returned back.

She took a seat and start eating, when she finished she took her grandmother's car. It was a Minivan. She opened the door and get inside. Then she started to drive to her school. Mrs. Everdeen had taken Katniss to the school once so she could know the way, and fortunately Katniss learned quickly.

The school was an impressive three-story red brick building. There were several narrow paths that led up the hill, and she finally nerved herself to take one. At the top her throat closed and she simply stared.

'_God, it looks like a __college __or something. Like a historical landmark.'_ Katniss thought.

The bold stone facing on the front read NEW SALEM HIGH SCHOOL, and below was a sort of crest with the words _Town of New_ _Salem Incorporated 1693_. _'Was that how old this town was? Three hundred __years__?'_ She thought. Back in Reseda, The oldest buildings around had been there for maybe fifty years.

An incredibly loud roar made her head jerk around, and some girl jump just in time to avoid a motorcycle on the bike path. But even more astonishing was its rider—a girl. She was wearing tight black jeans and a motorcycle jacket, and her trim, athletic body looked tough. But when she turned around after parking the motorcycle by a bike rack, Katniss saw that her face was ravishingly pretty. It was small and feminine, she had short brown hair with matching brown eyes, and her face was marred only by a sullen, belligerent expression.

"What are you staring at?" the girl demanded, but it wasn't directed to her.

"I… I… nothing… I mean… I'm sorry." Stammered some girl. "I'm sorry." She said again.

"You better be. You keep out of my face, get it?"

The girl only nodded. Katniss watch with an impressive look. She could not believe that the girl with the bike make the other one apologies because she almost ran over her. _'What kind of place is this?'_

All around her were greeting each other, hugging, talking, shouting hello. She was the only one that didn't know anyone. Still she wasn't uncomfortable at all. She was just walking to her locket, which was number 345, when she finally fined it she unlock it and put her things inside and head to her class.

Her first one was writing for publication, an English elective.

She was a little better when she didn't have any trouble to find her class. The classroom was half empty; she took an inconspicuous desk near the back and close to the door. She put her things down, seat and put out a notebook and the book that she was reading. She enjoyed a lot read, she was reading "The Vampire Diaries: The awakening" for second time.

When she looked up she saw that the room was filling up, but most them were on their feet, talking to others.

She her book on the page she was looking for and started to read. Less than a minute had passed when a voice startled her.

"You're new, aren't you?" It was a boy with brown skin, dark hair and brown eyes. He was smiling. It was a friendly smile. "You're new." He repeated.

"Yes." Katniss said.

"Welcome then, I'm Thresh Jones." He said while he extended his hand for a hand shake; which she did.

"Katniss Everdeen." She said and smile.

"So, what brings you to New Salem?"

"I just moved here from California." She answered.

"Really? Wow, it must be a huge change if you moved from a place like that to this little town." Thresh said.

"It is." Katniss commented.

"Well if you need any help or you have any doubt, I'll have no problem on help you." He said sincerely.

"Thanks."

"Anytime." Just when a guy with bronzed hair and green eyes sits next to Thresh, and they both greet each other. When they are done, they turn to Katniss. The green-eyed smiled.

"Well, hello there." He said to Katniss, meanwhile he took her hand and kissed it. "I'm Finnick Odair, at your service. And you are?" He asks her with a seductive voice. From the corner of her eye; she could see Thresh rolling his eyes.

"Katniss Everdeen." She said with a normal voice.

Finnick looked surprised, just for a moment but then he recovered and smile at her. "So, I heard you're the new in here, huh?"

"Yep." She said emotionless. Thresh began to laugh. Katniss was confused, _'was it because I didn't fall for him?' _He looked like the type of guy that flirts with every girl. Of course he was, He had beautiful sea green eyes with a sparkle in it. With his bronzed messy hair. He was handsome, yes but Katniss wasn't attracted to him, maybe he was too beautiful that it was too easy to lose…

Finnick starts to chuckle. Before he could say anything the teacher comes in and starts talking:

"Hello and welcome to another year in school, as many of you know I'm Mr. Haymitch Abernathy, and I'll be your teacher for the next year and know we're going to start…"

The rest of the class was boring and when the bell rang she head to her next class.

In the hall, she asked a girl where the room C310 was. Then she realized that it was the girl from the morning, the one that apologize with the girl with the bike.

She had a necklace that said "Karen" with shiny letters, and she was with another girl.

"… Listening to him. What should I do Lit?" The other girl apparently named 'Lit' was about to answer but Katniss interrupted.

"Hum… Hi, sorry to interrupt, but can you please tell me where is the room C310?"

"Sure, it's on the third floor, all the math classes are. Go up that stairway-"

"Look out! Heads up, everybody!" a shouting voice interrupted. Something was whizzing down the hall, scattering students right and left from its path. Two somethings. Dumbfounded, Katniss saw that it was two guys on roller blades, laughing and bellowing as they tore through the crowd. Katniss had a glimpse of disheveled blond hair, slightly tilted blue-green eyes as one passed—and then she saw it all again as the second one streaked by. The boys were identical, except that one was wearing a black shirt and the other a green one.

They were creating chaos as they went, knocking books out of people's arms and grabbing at girls'

clothes. As they reached the end of the hallway, one of them caught a pretty redhead's miniskirt and deftly flipped it up to waist level. The girl shrieked and dropped her backpack to push it down.

"Why doesn't somebody do something?" Katniss blurted out. _'Why doesn't somebody stop them—or report them—or something.' _She thought.

"Are you kidding? Those are the Henderson brothers," Karen said, and she walked away, with the girl named 'Lit'. Katniss heard a fragment of a sentence float back: "… doesn't even know about the Club…" and both girls glanced back at her, then walked on.

'_What Club?'_ That girl had said it as if it had capital letters. '_What did a club have to do with breaking school rules? What kind of place was this?'_

Another bell rang, and Katniss realized that she was now late for class. _'Great.'_ She thought as she slung her backpack over her shoulder and ran for the stairs.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_Line break_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

By lunch time, the cafeteria was full, she got out of there and head outside.

Partway down the hill there were several craggy outcrops of natural rock, and she found she could sit comfortably in a little hollow below one, shaded by a tree. She was shielded by the rock from the school; it was almost as if the school didn't exist. She could look down a flight of meandering steps to the bottom of the hill and the road beyond, but no one from above could see her.

And the rock at her back—the famous red granite of New England—gave her a feeling of security. It was strange, but she almost felt she could hear a buzzing in the rock, like a heartbeat tremendously speeded up. A buzzing of life. _'If I put my cheek to it, I wonder what would happen?' _she thought with a curious excitement.

Voices distracted her. She knelt up to look over the top of the rock.

It was the girl with the bike and there where another two girls with her. They were laughing and sauntering down the steps right toward Katniss.

One of the girls had dark hair, really dark that shined with the light, and she had honey-golden eyes. The other was a strawberry blond with a tiny waist and the most-developed chest Katniss had ever seen on a teenager.

They stopped on the landing just above Katniss, sitting with their feet on the steps below and pulling out paper lunch bags. They were so close that Katniss could see the red stone blazing at the golden-eyed girl throat. Although she was in shadow now, if she moved they wouldn't be able to miss her. She was trapped.

"Did anybody follow us, Johanna?" The girl with the red stone asked lazily as she rummaged through her backpack.

The biker girl snorted. "Nobody's stupid enough to try."

"Good. Because this is top secret. I don't want you-know-who to hear anything about it," She said. She took out a stenographer's notebook with a red cover and laid it on her knee. "Now let me see, what shall we do to start this year off? I feel like something really wicked."

"Well, there's Rye…" the strawberry blond said.

"Already begun," The dark-haired girl said, smiling. "I work fast, Glimmer." Glimmer laughed.

"I still don't see the point of Rye Dulany." The biker girl said. Scowling.

"You don't see the point of any guy, Johanna; that's your problem," said Glimmer.

"And your problem is that you can't see the point of anything else," Johanna retorted. "But Jeffrey's worse than most. He's got more teeth than brain cells."

"Who are you going to start, Glimmer?" The dark-haired one asked.

"Oh, I don't know, Clove. It's hard to decide. There is There's Mark Flemming and Brant Hegerwood and David Downey—he's in my remedial English class, and he's developed this killer body over the summer. And then there's always Gale…"

Johanna hooted. "Our Gale? The only way he'd look at you is if you had four wheels and a clutch."

"And besides, he's taken," Clove said, and her smile reminded Katniss of a crouching jungle cat.

"You just said you wanted Rye—"

"They both have their uses. Get this straight, Glimmer. Gale and I have an… arrangement. So you just back off and pick yourself a nice outsider, all right?"

There was a moment of tension, and then the strawberry blond shrugged. "Okay, I'll take David Downey. I didn't really want Gale anyway. He's an iguana."

Johanna looked up. "He's my cousin!"

"He's still an iguana. He kissed me at the sophomore prom, and it was like kissing a reptile."

"Can we get back to business?" Clove said. "Who's on the hate list?"

"Delly Cartwright," Glimmer said immediately.

"She already thinks because she's class president she can stand up to us, and if you take Rye, she's going to be really mad."

"Delly…" Clove mused. "Yes, we'll have to come up with something truly special for dear old Delly… What's wrong, Johanna?"

Johanna had stiffened, looking up the hill toward the school entrance. "Intruder alert," she said. "In fact, it looks like a whole delegation."

Katniss had seen it too, a group of guys and girls coming through the main entrance down the hill. She felt a surge of hope. Maybe while Clove and the other two were occupied with them, she herself could slip away unnoticed. Heart beating quickly, she watched the new group approach.

A broad-shouldered boy in front, who seemed to be the leader, spoke up.

"Look, Clove, the cafeteria's crowded. So we're going to eat out here—okay?" His voice started out belligerent, but it wavered toward the end, becoming more of a question than a statement.

Clove looked up at him without haste, then smiled her slow, beautiful smile. "No," she said, briefly and sweetly. "It isn't okay." Then she turned back to her lunch.

"How come?" the boy burst out, still trying to sound tough. "You didn't stop us last year."

"Last year," Clove said, "we were only sophomores. This year we're juniors—and we're wicked. As wicked as we wanna be."

Johanna and Glimmer smiled.

Frustrated, Katniss shifted her weight. So far there had never been a moment when all three of the girls were looking away. _'Come on, turn around,_' she thought pleadingly.

The group of guys and girls went on standing there for a minute or two, exchanging angry glances. But finally they turned and walked back toward the school building—all except one.

"Uh, Clove? Did you mean I had to go too?" she said. She was a pretty, flushed girl, and young. Probably a sophomore, Katniss guessed. Katniss expected her to get packed off like the others, but to her surprise Clove raised her eyebrows and then patted the landing invitingly.

"Why, Bonnie," she said, "of course you can stay. We just imagined you'd be eating in the cafeteria with the Princess of Purity and the rest of the goody-goodies."

Bonnie sat down. "Too much goodness can get boring," she said.

Clove tilted her head and smiled. "And there I thought you were a namby-pamby little Puritan. Silly me," she said. "Well, you know you're always welcome here. You're almost one of us, aren't you?"

Bonnie ducked her head. "I'll be fifteen in two weeks."

"There, you see," Clove said to the others. "She's almost eligible. Now what were we talking about? That new slasher movie, wasn't it?

"That's right," Johanna said, showing her teeth. "The one where the guy chops people up and makes them into condiments at his salad bar."

Glimmer was unwrapping a Twinkie. "Oh, Johanna, don't. You're making me sick."

"Well, you make me sick with those things," Johanna said. "You never stop eating them. That's

What those are, you know," she told Bonnie, pointing at Glimmer's chest. "Two giant Twinkies. If Hostess went out of business, she'd be wearing a double A."

Clove laughed her sleepy, throaty laugh, and even Glimmer giggled. Bonnie was smiling too, but looking uncomfortable.

"Bonnie! We're not embarrassing you, are we?" Clove exclaimed, opening her golden eyes wide.

"Don't be silly. I don't embarrass easily," Bonnie said.

"Well, with brothers like yours, I should think not. Still," Clove went on, "you seem so young, you know; almost… virginal. But that's probably just a false impression, right?"

Bonnie was blushing now. All three junior girls were looking at her with insinuating smiles.

"Well, sure—I mean, it is a false impression—I'm not all that young—" Bonnie swallowed, looking confused. "I went out with Darius Aurelius all last summer," she ended defensively.

"Why don't you tell us all about it?" Clove murmured. Bonnie looked more confused.

"I—well—I think I'd better get going. I've got gym next period, and I have to get all the way over to E-wing. I'll see you guys." She got up quickly and disappeared.

"Strange, she left her lunch," Clove mused, frowning gently. "Oh, well." She extracted a package of

Cupcakes from Bonnie's lunch sack and tossed them to Glimmer, who giggled.

Johanna, though, was frowning. "That was stupid, Clove. We're going to need her later—like in two weeks. One empty space, one candidate, you know?"

"True," Clove said. "Oh, well, I'll make it up to her. Don't worry; when the time comes, she'll be on our side."

"I suppose we'd better get moving too," Glimmer said, and behind her rock, Katniss shut her eyes in relief.

"I've got to climb all the way to the third floor for algebra."

"Which could take hours," Johanna said maliciously. "But don't strain yourself just yet. There's more company coming."

Clove sighed in exasperation, without turning. "Who now?. What do we have to do to get a little peace around here?"

"It's Madame Class President herself. Delly. And there's steam coming out of her ears."

Clove's expression of annoyance vanished, dissolving into something more beautiful and infinitely more dangerous. Still sitting with her back to the school, she smiled and worked her long, red-tipped fingers like a cat exercising its claws. "And I thought today was going to be boring," she murmured, clucking her tongue. "It just shows you can never tell. Well, hello, Delly," she said aloud, standing and turning in one smooth motion. "What a lovely surprise. How was your summer?"

"Save it, Clove," said the girl who'd just marched down the steps. She was a good head shorter than Clove, and slighter of build, but her arms and legs had a wiry look and her fists were clenched as if she were prepared to do physical battle. "I didn't come out here to chat."

"But we haven't had a good talk in so long… Did you do something to your hair? It's so interesting."

Katniss looked at Delly's hair. It had a rusty cast to it, and looked frizzled and overpermed.

The girl raised a defensive hand to her head.

"I didn't come to talk about my hair, either!" snapped Delly. She had a strident voice that was climbing higher with every sentence. "I came to talk about Rye. You leave him alone!"

Clove smiled, very slowly. "Why?" she murmured, and in contrast to Delly's voice hers seemed even lower and more sensual. "Afraid of what he'll do if you're not there to hold his hand?"

"He's not interested in you!"

"Is that what he told you? Hmm. He seemed very interested this morning. He's taking me out Saturday night."

"That's because you're _making _him."

"Making him? Are you suggesting a big boy like Rye can't say no when he wants to?" Clove shook her head. "And why isn't he here now to speak for himself? I'll tell you something, Delly," she added, her voice dropping confidentially. "He didn't fight hard this morning. In fact. He didn't fight hard at all."

Delly's hand drew back as if she wanted to hit the bigger girl, but she didn't. "You think you can do anything, Clove—you and the rest of the Club! Well, it's time somebody showed you that you can't. There are more of us—lots more—and we're getting tired of being pushed around. It's time somebody took a stand."

"Is that what you're planning to do?" Clove said pleasantly. Delly had been circling her like a bulldog looking for an opening, and now the wiry girl had ended on the edge of the landing with her back to the steps leading down.

"Yes!" Delly cried defiantly.

"Funny," murmured Clove, "because it's going to be hard to do that flat on your back." With the last words she flicked her long red fingernails in Delly's face.

She never actually touched Delly's skin. Katniss, who had been watching intently, desperately waiting for an opportunity to flee, felt sure of that.

But it was as if something hit Delly. Something invisible and heavy. The wiry girl's entire body jerked back and she tried frantically to regain her footing on the edge of the landing. Arms flailing, she teetered for an endless instant and then fell backward.

Katniss could never remember what happened then. One minute she was behind her rock, crouching and safe, and the next she had flung herself out across the falling girl's path, knocking her sideways onto the grass. For a heartbeat Katniss thought they were both going to roll all the way down the hill, but somehow or other they didn't. They ended up in a heap, with Katniss underneath.

"Let go! You ripped my _shirt_," a strident voice exclaimed, and an unkind fist planted itself in Katniss' midriff as Delly pushed herself to her feet. Katniss stared up at her, open-mouthed. _'Talk about gratitude…'_

"And as for you, Clove Chamberlain—you tried to _kill _me! But you'll get yours, you wait and see!"

"I'll get yours too, Delly," Clove promised, smiling, but the sleepiness in her smile wasn't genuine anymore. She looked as if underneath she were grinding her teeth.

"You just wait," Delly repeated vehemently. "Someday they may find _you _at the bottom of those stairs with a broken neck." With that, she marched to the landing and up the steps, bringing her foot down on each as if she were stamping on Clove's face. She didn't even look back or acknowledge Katniss' existence.

Katniss slowly got up and glanced down the long, winding flight of stairs that led to the foot of the hill. She couldn't have done anything differently, she realized. Delly would have been lucky to break nothing more than her neck before she reached bottom. But now…

She turned to face the three girls above her.

'_Oh, great.' _She thought.

They were still standing with careless, unstudied elegance, but underneath their easy demeanor was violence. Katniss saw it in the sullen darkness of Johanna's eyes, and in the spiteful curve of Glimmer's lips. But most of all she saw it in Clove.

It occurred to her, quite incidentally, that these were probably the three most beautiful girls she'd ever seen. It wasn't just that each had perfect skin, free of the slightest trace of teenage blemishes. It wasn't their gorgeous hair. It wasn't even the way they set each other off, each one's distinctive type enhancing the others' instead of detracting from them. It was something else, something that came from within. A kind of confidence and self-possession that no girl at sixteen or seventeen should have. An inner strength, an energy. A power.

"Well, now, what do we have here?" Clove said in a throaty voice. "A spy? Or a little white mouse?"

"I saw her this morning," Johanna said. "She was talking to Finnick and Thresh"

"Oh, I've seen her before that, Jo," Clove replied. "I saw her last week at Number Twelve. She's a neighbor."

"You mean _she's_—" Glimmer broke off.

"Yes."

"Whatever else she is, she's dead meat now," Johanna said. Her petite face was twisted in a scowl.

"Let's not be hasty," Clove murmured. "Even mice may have their uses. By the way, how long were you hiding there?"

"Long enough," Katniss said.

Clove descended slowly to stand in front of her. "Do you always spy on other people's private conversations?"

"I was here before you came," She said.

Those honey-colored eyes seemed to glow with an eerie, supernatural light. It was focused on Katniss like a laser beam, draining away her will, causing the strength to flow out of her. It was as if Clove wanted her to do something—or wanted something _from _her. As if trying to make her feel so disoriented—so off balance and weak…

'_It won't work out.'_ Katniss thought. She was stronger than that. Instead she return that same look back to Clove.

And then she felt a sudden surge of strength that seemed to come up from her feet. Or, rather, from the ground beneath them, from the red New England granite that she'd felt buzzing with life earlier. It steadied her, sweeping up and straightening her spine, so that she lifted her chin and looked into those golden eyes without flinching.

"I was here first," she said defiantly.

"Very good," murmured Clove, and there was an odd look in her eyes. "All right." Clove was smiling again, a particularly unpleasant smile that made her red lips look cruel. "I think you were right the first time, Johanna. She's dead meat." She looked at Katniss.

"You're new here, so you probably don't understand what kind of mistake you've made. And I don't have time to stand here and tell you. But you'll find out. You'll find out—Katniss."

She reached out and caught Katniss' chin with her long red-tipped nails. Katniss pulled away, still with the same defiant look.

For the first time she noticed that the red stone Clove wore at her throat had a star in it, like a star sapphire. It winked in the sunlight, and Katniss found she couldn't take her eyes off it.

Clove started to laugh.

"Come on," she said to the other two girls. The three of them turned and went up the steps.

'_At least the mystery of the Club is solved. They're a gang. You've heard of gangs before, even if you never went to a school with one. As long as you leave them alone and don't cross them from now on, you'll be okay.'_

But the reassurance rang hollow in her mind. Clove's last words had sounded like a threat. But a threat of what?

Katniss shook her head to clear her thoughts.

What a first day of school. She had heard Clove said that they were neighbors. _'Does mean that those three are going to live close to me?' _Katniss thought. '_How great.'_

The rest of the school went out boring and fast. She discovered that she had a class with Clove and Delly, another with Glimmer, Johanna and the twins from the morning; or as they told her, "The Henderson brothers". On the others she didn't put any attention.

When Katniss got back to the house that afternoon, her mother didn't seem to be downstairs. Finally, as she wandered from room to room calling, her grandmother appeared on the staircase. The look on her face made Katniss' stomach lurch.

"How is she? Is she better?" She asked to her grandmother.

"She's still sick, I'm afraid that she it's a bit worse. Still there is nothing to worry about. She'll be okay."

"Can I see her?" Her grandmother nodded.

Katniss hurried up the creaking old steps to the blue room. Her mother was lying in a grand four-poster bed. Her eyes were shut, her face pale and lightly perspiring.

"Mom?"

The large blue eyes opened. Her mother swallowed and smiled painfully. "Just a touch of the flu, I think," she said, and her voice was weak and distant, a voice to go with the pallor of her face. "I'll be fine in a day or two, honey. How was school?"

Katniss' better nature battled with her desire to spread her own misery around as much as possible. Her mother took a little breath and shut her eyes as if the light hurt her.

Better nature won. Katniss dug her nails into her palms and spoke evenly. "Oh, fine," she said.

"Did you meet anyone interesting?"

"Oh, you could say that."

She didn't wanted them to worry, she was sure that if she actually told them what happened they would ask her questions and tell her that everything it was going to be all right. She didn't wanted that. She didn't wanted their pity and reassuring words.

She wasn't afraid of Clove and the others. Katniss was better than that. But she couldn't deny that there was something about them that made her feel somehow… Connected with them.

During dinner her grandmother asked her the same things that her mother did. And of course she answered the same that with her mother.

"Was any trouble at school?" Her mother had asked her the same thing. She was about to answer 'no', but something inside of her make her tell the truth.

"Well, not exactly a problem but there is this girl, Clove and at the very first day I made her… hate me." She didn't care; she had dealt in the past with persons that hated her. She didn't know why she was talking about it. Something had made her.

"It will get better, Katniss." She said.

"Sure."

Then her grandmother did something surprising. She looked around as if somebody might be listening and then leaned forward. "No, I mean that, Katniss. I know. You see, you have—a special advantage. Something very special…" Her voice dropped to a whisper.

Katniss leaned forward in turn. "What?"

Her grandmother opened her mouth, then her eyes shifted away. There was a pop from the fire, and she got up to poke the wood there.

"Grandma, what?"

"You'll find out."

Katniss felt a shock. It was the second time today she'd heard those words. "Grandma—"

"You've got good sense, for one thing," her grandmother said, a new, brisk tone in her voice. "And two good legs, for another. Here, take this broth up to your mother. She hasn't eaten anything all day."

She dropped the subject; even thought she was still thinking about it. She nodded and headed upstairs.

Once she was in her mother's room, she let the broth on the night table next to the bed. Her mother was sleeping. She'll look younger if it weren't because of the dark circles under her eyes and the fact that her skin looked even paler than ever.

Katniss took the blanket and lifted so it covered her mother from feet to chin; then she knelt down and kissed her forehead. She turned around and head to her room.

When she was in her room she prepared for bed, longing that the dream will come soon. To her fortune, it did.

She woke up a few hours later from one of the weirdest dreams she ever had.

In her dream, she was hunting in the woods; she was happier than the whole last week. It was only her and the woods, just how she missed and liked; when she was about to shoot, her bow disappeared. She blinked a couple of times and she was no longer in the woods but on the school.

It was dark, so she just keep walking hoping that she could find a way to get out of there. At the end of one of the empty halls, there was a light.

She heard a chuckle. Slow and lazy. And then, right under the light; there was Clove. She was smiling. It was her lazy smile.

She was holding something on her hand. A closest look of it, Katniss notice that it was a rock. But it wasn't just a rock. It had a shine and looked familiar to Katniss. After a moment she discovered that it was the pink chalcedony, the one that belonged to the guy on the beach. The one that it supposed to be under her pillow.

Katniss was confused_. 'How did it get here?_' Just when Clove was about to say something, Katniss woke up.

Why was she dreaming with Clove? And why was she holding the pink chalcedony? What that mean? Right before she could help it, she was looking for it; desperately. She relaxed when she found it under her pillow, exactly where she left it.

She took it on her hands and pressed it to her palm. It seemed ridiculous to her, it was just a dream. A mean less one but she couldn't help but feel relieved at the fact that it was safe with her and far away from Clove.

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**So that was chapter three! What do you think? Please review! Oh! Before I forget I'm going to update this Sunday, I had a little of extra-time. If I get more time next week I may do the same, I can't promise anything about it. I may do it if I get a lot more reviews. **

**Lots of love,**

**Mar**


	4. Chapter Four

**Hey everyone! As I said today I was going to update, here it is! This chapter it's shorter that usual but the next one will be back to the normal. Please review! I beg you, please!**

**Chapter Four**

The first person that Katniss saw at school the next morning was Clove. The tall girl was standing with a group in front of a side entrance that Katniss had been taking to be inconspicuous.

Johanna, the biker, and Glimmer pneumatic strawberry blond, were in the group. So were the two blond guys who had been roller blading through the halls yesterday. And there was another guy; he was tall, with dark hair and grey eyes. He had a cold face. He was wearing a T-shirt with rolled-up sleeves and black jeans like Johanna's, and he was smoking a cigarette. _'Gale?' _thought Katniss, remembering the girls' conversation yesterday. _'The reptile?'_

Katniss walk normally towards the entrance, not looking towards the group of guys. Then she directed towards her English class.

Almost guiltily, she reached down to pat her hip pocket. It was stupid to have brought it, but since last's night dream she felt better knowing that the little piece of chalcedony was with her. Besides it did make her feel different. And of course it was ridiculous to believe that it could change her luck, but then again, it helped her.

She took a seat on the same place as yesterday; right behind Thresh. He was already there when he saw her he smiled at her.

"And, how was your first day?"

"Hum, it was… interesting." She answered, when Finnick was taking seat.

"Of course it was interesting. You saw me yesterday, and I'll make sure that every day be like that." He winked at her.

"Finnick, leave the poor girl alone. I'm sure that she doesn't want you even near." Said a girl that it was taking a seat next to Katniss. She had green eyes, they looked like finnick's but hers, were like emeralds, it was like she had light right behind them. She had shining dark curls. She was pretty. She looked innocent but confident. She smiled at Katniss.

"Hi, I'm Annie Cresta." She said while extending her hand to shake it with Katniss'.

"Katniss Everdeen." Annie smiled even more.

"Are you kidding? Who would not want to be near me?" Finnick asks her.

Thresh rolled her eyes. It was the second time that Katniss had seen Thresh roll his eyes and in both times it was because of Finnick.

"Never mind." Annie said. She turned to Katniss. "He is always like that, but once you meet him you're going to like him, we all did."

Thresh snorts. "Yeah, to some of us it took a really, really long time."

Katniss smiled at him.

Just then, the bell rings, but the teacher is no way to be found.

"Huh, looks like Haymitch it's going to be late again." Finnick said.

Annie just shakes her head. "So, Katniss, I heard that we are neighbors."

"We are?" Katniss asked. She knew that Clove, Johanna and Glimmer were, but she never guessed that she would be too. _'This must be a really small town.' _She thought.

"Yes, so Finnick does. I live on Crowhaven Road, Number Ten, and Finnick on Number Seven."

"Yep, so if you ever need any help. I'm at your service." Finnick said. It was the same thing that he told her yesterday, but this time there was no seductive voice, it actually sounded like if he mean it.

"Thanks." Katniss said. Finnick just smiled at her.

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It turned out that Katniss and Annie had the same first three classes. Katniss was ashamed that she didn't notice her, how could she not notice her? But then during one of the periods she discovered that Annie wasn't at school yesterday.

Apparently she was sick. So right after she told her that, Katniss felt relieved. She stayed with Annie the whole time. She discovered that she loved the sea, which was why she always was on her window, she loved watching it. And also find out that she and Finnick were dating since freshman year.

When it was time for the third period, they both go out and head to Spanish. The classroom was exactly like yesterday. The persons around Katniss seemed irritated and some of them annoyed. Annie took a seat next to a blond girl and they greet each other. Katniss quickly followed.

"Katniss, this is my friend Primrose, but we all call her Prim, she lives on the same road as we do. Her house it's next to yours, Number Eleven." Annie said_. 'Does everyone live on Crowhaven road?_' Katniss thought.

The blond one grinned at Katniss. "Hi! It's a pleasure to meet you!" Prim said really cheerfully.

Katniss smiled at her, she reminded her at her mother. She had pale blond hair that looked like if it had a soft glow that it matched with her skin. Her eyes were a really soft blue, they looked so big and so shinny it looked like if she would be about to cry, except that she radiated happiness and excitement. It reminded Katniss a small child.

"The pleasure it's mine." Katniss said. She remembered see her yesterday. She was talking to everyone. And Katniss could understand why. With every person that Prim talked seemed been enjoying it. It was hard not to like her.

After a moment she discovered that her suspicion was correct. She already liked her. On her whole life she always avoided people like her but there was something about her, something on her personality that gives her that glow.

"How long have you girls known each other?" Katniss asked.

"Since we were babies, our families have live on the same road for the last three hundred years." Prim said.

"Yeah, we all have been friends for a long time, since we grew together; we even have this club–'' Annie didn't finished.

"Wait, you two are on the club?" Katniss asked remembering that she had heard about it. Clove, Johanna and Glimmer were in it. How was it possible that they be on the same club as them? They were so different.

"You heard about it?" Prim asked.

"Well I already met Glimmer, Johanna and Clove." Katniss murmured.

"Yeah, they aren't the best representation we have but don't judge us for that. And well it turns out that Clove it's my cousin." Annie said.

"What?" Katniss couldn't believe it.

"I know that she can be hard sometimes, but deep inside of her, she have's some good in her." Prim said.

"You'll probably need to use a scanning electron microscope to find it." Katniss said.

The two girls laughed.

"Probably." They agreed.

"Just don't judge us for Clove. We're not like that."

'_Obviously no_.' Katniss thought.

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By lunch she already had an invitation. Prim had asked her along with Annie to sit with them and their friends. Katniss wasn't sure about it. She wasn't a friendly person, she liked to be alone. But, again, there was something about those girls that made her say yes.

They told her the indications of how to find them.

"Oh. You just head to the part in the rear. It's right behind the glass door. We call it the back room. You'll see it." Annie told her. Katniss just nodded.

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When she was heading to their table she noticed some girls whispering while they were watching her, they were five of them. When she turned to them; they acted like nothing had happened.

'_Could they be more obvious?'_ Katniss thought. She took a deep breath and started walking the opposite side.

When she was ten feet away from them; they give her nasty looks, it reminded her at the day on the beach, when she help de blond–haired guy. The looks that they were giving her were the same ones that they give the guy. She understood why he didn't care what they did.

It didn't have any importance.

One of them, started to walk towards Katniss. "Why don't you go back from where you came from." Said the girl. Katniss just rolled her eyes and keep walking. She recognized two of the others. They were the same ones that tell Katniss were her classroom was. Her name was Karol? Carmen? Karen? Yes, it was Karen and Lit.

One of them actually tried to take her books but she was to slow. It was pathetic. _'What is their problem?' _Katniss thought.

"What do you want?" Katniss asked annoyed. They smirked.

"Why do you assume that we want something from you?" The one of the center asked. "We just want to steer clear who rules this school."

Katniss had to bite her lip from laughing. They were ridiculous. Who they think they were? "And you are?" Katniss asked mockingly.

The same girl took another step. She was angry and she opened her mouth to say something.

Just when she was about to scream at her; Prim appeared out of nowhere. The girls looked at her and started talking immediately to her. Prim answered very polite; even thought that Katniss could see that she just wanted to get out of there.

"Prim, it's so good to see you." "We haven't talk in a really long time." Things like that. After a moment Prim turned to Katniss and smiled at her.

"Katniss! I've looking for you for a while! Let's go!" Prim said to Katniss.

Katniss grinned at her and nodded. She almost laughed at the other five. They had their mouths gawking and they were looking at her with envy and jealous. She didn't know why but Katniss enjoyed and smirked at them.

Once they reached the table she could see why they like it there. There was a TV mounted on one wall, although it was too noisy to hear it. There was even a microwave and a Very fine juice machine. The only problem was that the entrance to the back room was swamped with people standing around, people hoping to be invited in, or people just hanging out on the fringes.

She took a seat beside Annie, who smiled at her. There were five persons in there, six including her. Annie, Prim, Finnick, one of the Henderson brothers and a blond one. It was her. It was the same girl that she had seen on Number One, the one that her hair looked like sunlight and moonlight woven together. She had sapphire blue eyes. She smiled at Katniss.

"Hi, I'm Madge Undersee. You must be Katniss." She said softly.

"Yes."

"I heard that you live on Crowhaven Road, Number Twelve. Well I guess that we are neighbors, I live on Number One. "

"Undersee? That sounds familiar." Katniss thought aloud.

She smiled shyly at her. "Yeah. Probably from the Mayor Undersee. I'm his daughter."

"Oh." Was all she could said. The two boys were on a deep conversation about teachers, somehow they ended up discussing. She had never seen two persons interested on which teacher is the worst one. Prim was watching them with intensity and an amused smile on her face; and Annie was giggling. Katniss and Madge started to eat.

They'd been eating and talking about random things when a strawberry–blond head appeared in the doorway. Glimmer looked cross.

"Johanna's got lunch at detention and Clove's off doing something, so I'm eating in here." She announced.

Annie looked up. "Fine." She said evenly, and then added, "This is my friend Katniss, Glimmer. Katniss this is Glimmer Whittier."

"Hi." Katniss said sounding casual.

There was a moment on tension. Then Glimmer rolled her mint–green eyes. "Hi." She said finally, and immediately sat down and began removing things from her lunch sack.

Katniss looked at Glimmer unloading her lunch, and then threw a quick glance over at Annie. Then she looked at Madge and raised her eyebrows questioningly.

She heard the crinkle of plastic as Glimmer produced the last item from her bag; then a piercing shriek from Annie.

"Oh, my God, you're not still eating those! Do you know what's on those things, Glimmer? Beef fat, lard, palm oil and it's about fifty percent white sugar…"

Prim was biting her lip along with Madge and Katniss, and the boys were shaking silently. All of them were trying to keep a straight face. Finally it was too much for them and they burst into laughter.

Everyone looked at them, baffled.

But they didn't care after a few seconds Annie and Glimmer join to them. Katniss had passed a long time without having fun. '_Maybe this won't be so bad.'_ She thought watching at her 'new' friends.

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When they were about to head home, Annie along with Prim and Madge, asked Katniss to go to her house, since they were going to spend the afternoon together, Katniss offered to take Madge with her, seeing that they were going to the same place and she had brought her car it seemed fair for her to take one of them, Prim was on Annie's car.

On the raid home Madge and Katniss were talking, she discovered that Madge was quiet but really smart. She had the best qualifications from the whole school. And for being the Mayor's daughter, Katniss had expected her to be a snob. But she was nice. In fact she declared that she hated attention, so it wasn't fun for her to be the daughter of one of the most important persons and be one of the popular. When they get to Annie's place they already had know each other and Katniss felt like if she had a friendship with her.

Annie's house was beautiful. It was painted on white and it had a garden on the front. On the front was a window on the right side of the door and on the left one were two. On the second floor there was a balcony with four chairs and a small table.

It was nice.

The girls head inside and Katniss followed. Once inside they climbed the stairs and get into a room, that Katniss guessed that it was Annie's room. There were two windows, one had view on the street and the other one had the view of the sea. Katniss also notice that on the wall there were some kinds of art prints.

The whole place looked classy, elegant and artistic, but comfortable, too.

"Do you like those? The prints?" Annie asked her with a smile.

"Yes, who are they?" Katniss said.

"They're Greek gods. Or Greek goddesses, actually. This one's Aphrodite, the goddess of love. See the cherubs and doves around her?"

Katniss gazed at the woman in the picture, who was reclining on a sort of couch, looking beautiful and indolent. Something about the pose—or maybe it was the exposed bosom—reminded her of Glimmer.

"And this is Artemis." Annie moved to another print. "She was goddess of the hunt. She never married, and if any man saw her bathing, she had him ripped to pieces by her dogs."

The girl in this picture was slim and lithe, with toned-looking arms and legs. She was kneeling, aiming a bow. Her dark hair fell in tumbled waves down her back, and her face was intense, challenging. _'Johanna sometimes looked like that,'_ Katniss thought. Then she glanced at the next print and started.

"Who's that?"

"That's Hera, queen of the gods. She could be—jealous."

Katniss bet she could. The young woman was tall and proud, with an imperious set to her chin. But it was her eyes that held Katniss. They seemed almost to blaze from the print, full of passion and will and danger. Like a crouching jungle cat…

Like… Clove.

There were other prints but when Katniss was about to ask; Prim interrupted asking something about Pizza.

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They order a pizza and Prim began to prepare a salad, She asked Katniss help since Madge and Annie were on deep conversation.

You can wash that shepherd's purse over there—it's fresh, so it's probably got some native wildlife crawling on it." Prim said.

Katniss knew a lot about plants, she passed used to pass a lot of time in the parks and used to ask to her mother with that she learned. It also helped that she was asking to her grandmother a lot about her garden but she didn't only learned that. Her grandmother taught her about plants on the woods.

"Do you ever use—uh, feverfew—in salads?" She asked remembering some of the things her grandmother told her while she washed.

Prim smiled and nodded. "Yes, but you have to be careful not to eat too much; you can get a rash. Feverfew's good for other things, too; it makes a good wash for insect bites and a great love—" Prim broke off suddenly and went into a flurry of chopping. "There, this burnet is ready. It's good to get these greens fresh, you know," she added quickly, "because they taste better and they're still full of life from Mother Earth."

Katniss glanced at her warily. Maybe this girl wasn't so together after all. Full of life from Mother Earth? But then, suddenly, she recalled that day when she had leaned against the red granite and felt a buzzing deep inside it. When she'd imagined she'd felt that, rather. Yes, she could see how you might think that fresh plants were full of that life.

"Okay, this is done. You can tell An and Madge it's ready; I'll get some plates," Prim said.

Katniss nodded and went back into the spacious front room. Annie and Madge were still talking it wasn't until they saw Katniss that they broke off.

"It's ready." Katniss said.

The three girls head to the kitchen where there was everything served. And when the pizza came, Katniss had to admire the ease with which the other three girls laughed and talked with the college-age delivery guy. He got so interested in Madge that he practically invited himself inside, but Annie, laughing, shut the door on him.

Afterward, Madge told several amusing stories about her trip to Canada over the summer, and Katniss almost forgot about the remark. It was so good just to be surrounded by easy, friendly talk; not to feel shut out.

When she was getting ready to leave, Prim asked her if she could take her home.

"Of course, it's on my way home anyway." She said to Prim. And she smiled at her thank-fully. Even thought it was on the same street and one house of difference, the houses were built with a lot of distance it wasn't that much distance between Annie's house and Prim's, but still it was dark outside and doing it didn't have anything wrong.

When Prim close the door of the car Katniss started to drive, in that short time, Prim didn't stopped talking. Katniss found it amusing.

They arrived to Prim's house and she say thanks to Katniss for driving her home, and she returned saying it was nothing, that if she ever need it she'll be more that glad to do it again.

The blond one grinned at her. "Good night, Katniss. See you tomorrow."

"Good night, Prim. See you."

The way to her home was silent and comfortable. When she get to her house it was the same. Her grandmother smiled at her and told her that her mother was still the same. She needed to rest so she was already asleep.

Once in her room she prepared to sleep but not without placing the chalcedony right under her pillow.

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The next day when she woke up, she felt better, she didn't know why, but she did. She finished breakfast and wait for Annie's car to pass. Last night they told her that they always went to school together sometimes they even stayed for dinner on different houses depending on which car was it.

This week it was Annie's so they told her that they would pass for her. She took her backpack and put it on her shoulder and also took the chalcedony piece and put it on her hip pocket. It seemed to work yesterday.

When they got to school, it seemed impossible to walk at less five feet without stop for a person that wanted to talk with one of the other three girls.

"Oh, hi, Annie—have you got a minute?" "Madge! I'm so glad to see you…" "Prim, it's killing me. Won't you just think about this weekend?" (This from a guy.) Practically everybody they passed wanted to talk with one of those three, and those who didn't have something to say hung around the edges just listening.

Katniss watched the girls speak to each of them. The guys begging for dates were the only ones they dismissed, smiling. Some of the people shot nervous glances at Katniss, but none of them backed away or said anything nasty.

Minutes before the bell, the girls pulled away from the crowd and walked away. They separated Prim and Madge to their classes and Annie and Katniss to English. They took the same seats as yesterday. When Finnick came over, he give Annie a peek on the lips and a smile. Annie just giggle.

The rest of the classes went boring. They even talked to Katniss to transfer to another class so they could be the four of them together.

The week went out like that. Katniss felt… happy.

That Friday Bonnie it was there for lunch. The sister of the Henderson brothers, she liked Marvel. He was the one who had lunch with them, and from what they told to Katniss, he was really nice. The problem was Cato.

Bonnie seemed in awe of the older girls and was even absently respectful of Katniss, which was nice. Certainly Glimmer and Johanna had no such respect. The strawberry blond seemed unaware of Katniss' existence unless she wanted something passed to her or picked up, and the biker fixed Katniss with a surly glare whenever they passed in the hall. Johanna and Cato had appeared in the back room only once since Katniss started eating there, and they had spent the entire time arguing furiously about some heavy-metal band.

Either Clove or Gale appeared on the room not only once.

But Bonnie Henderson was nice. Now that Katniss knew, she could see the resemblance to Marvel and Cato —the blond hair and the blue-green eyes that Bonnie emphasized by wearing a turquoise necklace and ring all the time. Bonnie wasn't as wild as her brothers, though. She seemed just an ordinary, friendly, going-on-fifteen girl.

"I've been waiting so long for it, I can't believe it's finally here," she was saying at the end of lunch. "I mean, just think, next Tuesday's the day! And Dad says we can have the party down on the beach—or at least he didn't say we couldn't—and I want to make it really special, because of it being a holiday, too …" She trailed off suddenly. Katniss, following her gaze, saw that Madge had her lip caught between her teeth and was almost imperceptibly shaking her head.

"So, uh, do you think Peeta will be back in time for-—for—I mean, when do you think Peeta will be back?" Bonnie stuttered.

"I don't really know. I hope it's soon, but…" Prim gave a little shrug. "Who can tell? Who can ever tell?"

"Who's Peeta?" Katniss said.

"He's the other member of our club." Annie said.

"And where is he?" Katniss said.

"He's just… visiting some people. He's a junior, but he's been away so far this year. He's nice. I think you'll like him." Annie smiled.

Katniss looked toward Prim for more information. Prim waved a zucchini stick in the air. "Adam's…"

Bonnie said, "Yes, he's…"

Even Madge couldn't seem to find the right words. "You'll have to meet him," she said.

Katniss was intrigued. "Do you have a picture of him?" she asked.

"As a matter of fact, we don't," Prim said. And she went on, "You see, around here people have a sort of silly superstition about photographs—they don't like them. So lots of us don't get pictures taken."

Katniss tried to pretend this wasn't as bizarre as she thought it was. _'Like aboriginals,_' she thought in amazement. Thinking the camera will steal their souls. How can anybody in the twenty-one century think that?

"He's cute, though," Bonnie was saying fervently.

Glimmer, who had been absorbed in eating, looked up from her lunch to proclaim in feeling tones: "That body."

"Those eyes," Prim said.

Madge explained to Katniss. "You'll see Peeta it's the dream of every girl especially since he's single."

"Oh."

"Yeah, you'll have to wait till you meet him." Annie said.

But the only guy that Katniss could think about was the boy from the beach.

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**That was Chapter four! Still no Peeta but in here they talk about him! I hope that you guys like it the next Friday the chapter will be the normal long. Please review!**

**Lots of love,**

**Mar**


	5. Chapter Five

**Hey everyone! Today is Friday! Well this chapter is longer than usual and I hope you guy like it, On the next Chapter there it's going to be Peeta! Please review!**

**Chapter Five**

"Oh, no," Annie says. "I don't have the Scotch tape. It must have rolled under the car seat. You stay here; there's no reason for us both to go back." She turns and hurries toward the parking lot.

We were early that morning. Annie has a banner that she and Prim have painted, saying "Happy Birthday, Bonnie." We were going to hang it above the main entrance of the school. And they asked for my help.

I took a deep breath. Today I woke up with the crazy feeling that something was going to happen. I didn't know the reason but I still have it on my mind. I tried to convince myself that it was the fact that today its Bonnie's birthday and that I was going to be uncomfortable since she is going to be a member of the club and I won't.

Why I am mad at this? I knew that this was going to happen, is there a probability that maybe I'm jealous? Of course not! I know for a fact that I will never be a member of their club; I remember the conversation of Clove, Glimmer and Johanna, they clearly said that there was one empty space. Only one. And it makes sense that she be the one that takes it.

On their conversation they also said that she would be eligible at the age of fifteen and she lives on the same street and plus, she had two brothers on the club and they have know each other since they were babies.

A shiver caught my spine and I wrap my arms around me. It was colder than what I'm used for a late September. Prim and Madge were been talking over the weekend about the fall equinox, which is today too. Madge explained that it was the day when the hours of daylight and darkness were of equal length, which meant the start of fall. Everyone said the leaves would be turning soon.

I shiver again and began to pace, rubbing my arms.

The hill spread out. I walk to the top of the stairs and stood on my toes. It's a clear, crisp day, and mixed in with the luxuriant green all around me. I see a tinge of fall colors here and there. The shrubs across the road—what had Prim called them? Sumac. The sumac across the road is already red. And some of the sugar maples were turning golden yellow, and there is more red at the bottom of the hill…

I frown and stop rubbing my arms. I take a step down and lean forward, looking again. The red at the bottom of the hill is almost too red, too bright. I'd never known foliage could turn that color. It isn't natural.

Another violent shiver. God, it was cold. Whatever is down there is half hidden by the underbrush, but it isn't a bush itself. It looks more like a sweater somebody discarded. It'll get ruined, lying on the damp ground like that. Whoever owns it is going to be unhappy.

I take another step down. Of course, it's probably ruined already—or maybe it's just a scrap somebody's thrown out. But it doesn't look like a scrap. It haves a shape, I can see what it looks like the sweater's arm. In fact, it looks like a whole bundle of clothes. There is something like jeans lying below it…

That's funny, that's really funny, because it looks almost like a person. But that would be so stupid, it's cold and wet on the ground. Anybody lying down there would freeze. I move down the steps. A bit quickly now.

Stupid, but it really does look a lot like somebody. I mean, there's legs. That yellow could be hair. They must be asleep, but who would go to sleep like that? Right beside the road. Of course, the weeds and stuff screen them. I'm very close now, and everything haves gone into slow motion.

Oh, thank God—it isn't a person after all; it's just a dummy. Like one of those stuffed scarecrow things they put out at Halloween to scare people. See, it's all floppy in the middle… no person could bend that way. Like somebody pulled the head out…

Suddenly I feel like my chest is heaving and my muscles are shaking. I can also feel my knees trembling so hard that I'm surprised that I can still remain standing. My vision was sparkling at the edges as if I was going to faint.

Thank God, it's not a person, but oh, my God, is that a hand? Dummies don't have hands like that… not hands with little pink fingers… and dummies don't wear rings, turquoise rings…

Where have I seen a ring like that before? Look at it closer; no, don't look, don't look… But I did. The hand, stiff as a claw, was human. And the ring was Bonnie's.

Somehow I manage to run upstairs. I don't know what where I'm going so I'm just screaming all over again: "Help, help, help." But no one hears me. Or that's what I thought, as I reached the top of the hill Annie appeared, running.

"What is it?"

I can hardly breathe that I'm surprised that I can barely form a few words. "Bonnie!" I gasped. "Annie, something's wrong. Help her…"

Annie's eyes widen. "Where?"

"At the bottom of the hill." I say as a reached for her arm and pulled along with me. We were running down hill, then Annie knelt down over Bonnie's body and hesitates.

"Is she…?" I can't finish the sentence. I can't. I already know the truth.

Annie is pale as a ghost. "She's cold." Then she looks at me. "She's dead."

I can feel Annie shaking; I walk, slowly, over her and wrap my arms around her. She doesn't hesitate at doing the same. I know I can't tell her that everything it's going to be okay. She's not stupid. So I just let her cry on my shoulder while a stroke her hair. Sob after sob.

Bonnie was Annie's friend. Not mine, but still I can't feel but terrible. Whatever I've feeling since I woke up, it already happen.

And a few words go back to my mind, and keep echoing all over again.

_Someday they may find you at the bottom of those stairs with a broken neck. Someday they may find you…_

Bonnie's neck it's broken.

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The doctor says the same thing that I already know. Bonnie's neck it's broken. After Annie and I went back up stairs, everything seemed like a dream. Adults came and took over.

"What are we waiting for? Why don't we just get her?" Johanna says as I enter into the back room. It's not my lunch period, but all the rules seem to have suspended today.

"We all heard her say it," Johanna continues. "Glimmer, Clove, and me—even she heard it." She gestured to me. "That bitch said she was going to do it, and she did it. So what are we waiting for?"

"For the truth." Madge says.

"From them? Outsiders? You can't be serious. They'll never admit Delly did it. The police are saying it was an accident. An accident! No sign of a struggle, they're saying. She slipped on a wet step. And you know what the kids are saying? They're saying it was one of us!"

Prim looks up from the hot water she is pouring over some dried leaves in a mug. The end of her nose is pink. "Maybe it was one of us," she says.

"Like who?" Johanna blazes back.

"Like somebody who didn't want her in the Club. Somebody who was afraid she'd come in on the wrong side," says Prim.

"And we all know which side would be afraid," says a new voice.

It's Clove. I've never see her in the back room before. But here she is. Her honey-colored eyes hooded and smoldering.

"Well, Annie's side certainly had nothing to be afraid of," Prim says. "Bonnie idolized Annie."

"Did she? Then why did she spend the last week having lunch with me?" Faye says in her slow, husky voice.

Prim looks uncertain. Then her face clears and she shakes her head. "I don't care what you say; you're never going to make me believe Annie would hurt Bonnie."

But to my surprise, Glimmer says: "She's right, Annie wouldn't."

"Besides, we already know who would," Johanna says sharply. "It was Delly or maybe that moron boyfriend of hers. I say we get them now!"

"She's right," says Finnick.

Prim looks at him, then at Johanna, then at Clove. "What do you think, Madge?" she says finally.

Madge's voice is still quiet, detached. "I think we need to have a meeting," she says.

"She's right," Finnick says again.

Just then the Annie comes in. Behind her are the Henderson brothers. They look ravage and bewilder. As if they couldn't understand how this could happen to them. Marvel's eyes are red-rimmed.

Everyone sobered at the sight of the brothers. There was silence as they sat down at the table.

Then Clove turned to Annie. Her golden eyes are like two golden flames. "Sit down," she says flatly. "We need to talk."

"Yes," says Diana.

She sits down, and so does Clove. Prim, after put two cups of hot liquid in front of the Henderson brothers, does the same. Johanna jerks out a chair and throws herself into it. Glimmer and Madge are already seat.

Everyone turns to look at me.

Their faces are strange. Alien. Prim's normally elfin face is closed. Madge's cool sapphire eyes are more remote than ever; Glimmer's pouting lips are compressed tightly; Johanna's fierceness is barely kept in check. Even Finnick's usually furtive expression haves unprecedented dignity. Annie is pale and stern.

The glass door opens and Gale comes in. His face is like a cold and handsome stone, revealing nothing, but he sits down at the table besides Cato.

I'm the only one in the room left standing. I look at them, the members of the Club, and they look at me. No one needs to say anything. I turn around and left the room.

I don't know where I'm going. The school is trying to hold classes, even though there are probably more kids outside the classrooms than inside. They are in the halls, on the stairs, hanging around the main entrance. I look dazedly at a clock and then go to my science class, conceptual physics. I could probably call my mom and just go home, but I don't want to face my mother right now. I just want to try and pretend to be normal.

As I sit and take notes, I can feel eyes on me. But people keeps and murmuring, "Are you okay?" and "How're you doing?" They look ill at ease, as if they don't want to be talking to me but felt they'd better. After my last class there are more little visits: people are coming in groups of two or three to say, "Sorry" or "Just want you to know we'll miss her too."

I almost laughed at the irony. They were condolence calls! I am standing in for the Club. All of these 'outsiders' are coming to me, not realizing that I'm as much outside as any of them.

Just then a cheerleader comes and says, "Oh, this must be so hard for you," I lost it.

"I didn't even know her!" I burst out. "I only spoke to her once in my life!"

The cheerleader back off hastily. After that the condolence calls stopped. Good.

Ms. Beetee, the history teacher, drives me home. I sidestep my mother's worried questioning, -apparently the school has called to explain what have happened- and get outside. I climb down the steep bluff to the beach below my grandmother's house.

The ocean has never looked bleaker. It's a heavy, shining silver color—like the mercury in a thermometer. The day, which had started out so bright, it was turning overcast, and it get darker and darker as I paced. And paced. This beach has been one of the good things about living here—but what good was it now? I'm walking on it alone.

I feel my chest bursting. It is as if all the terrible events of the day are still locked inside of me, struggling to get out. But there is no release. The sky is dark gray. The ocean stretches out endlessly beneath it, even darker. While I'm looking at it, I feel a strange and terrible fascination.

Shivering violently, I wrench myself away from the whispering gray waters. My feet are numb and cold and my fingers felt like ice. I stumble as I climb up the narrow, rocky path. That night, I pull all the curtains shut in my room so I wouldn't have to see the ocean or the darkness outside. Chest aching, I open my jewelry box and take out the piece of chalcedony.

I haven't touched your gift in a while. But I've thought about you. Whatever I'm doing, wherever I am, you're somewhere in my mind. And oh, how I wish…

My hand shakes as I shut my eyes and put the stone to my lips. I feel the familiar crystalline roughness, the coolness of it warming to my warmth. Someday…

My mouth twisted in pain. Surges of something like lava well up to my chest, and I throw the stone as hard as I could across the room. It hit the wall with a sharp sound and fell, clattering, to the floor. Someday nothing! Stop fooling yourself! You'll never see him again. I lay in bed staring with sore eyes into the dimness, lit by a small night-light on the far wall. But her heart felt as if it had been torn open.

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Somehow I'm on the ocean—the dark and endless ocean. The ship is in trouble—I can hear the timbers creaking beneath. They are going aground. And something is lost… lost… I come awake all at once, sucking in my breath. Was that a noise?

My body tense. I listened. Silence. My eyes struggle to pierce the darkness. The night-light had gone out. I can feel a presence in front of me. Like a shadow, as if it was there waiting for something…

Oh, God. Yes I can feel it. It's so close to me, so close but instead of the warm feeling I feel cold and numb. I sense a pressure on my skin, like a radiation of cold. There is something in my bedroom.

I can't move. I know I can't. Can I talk? I don't know. I tried but I fail. I'm starting to feel dizzy. My body is trembling with tension and my eye trying to catch a glimpse of something, anything. But instead I see darkness. And I feel the same.

It's coming towards me.

I can feel like I'm suffocating.

But I also feel like I'm being lifted by my arm. Something it's pulling me up, I know fighting it's not worth it, so I just let it. After a few seconds I'm on my feet and I'm walking towards the door. But it's not me. Something it's pulling me out of my house, driving me out of the street. I just keep walking; I haven't been in this part of the island and I'm starting to scare. With every step I can feel like I'm on control but when I try to go back it's like I'm being pulled again. So I stop trying.

I'm on deep woods; there are all types of sizes of trees, I can hear the natural sounds of the night; creatures and wind. The cold breeze hits my face and it calms me a little. It feels great to be on the woods after a long time. Somehow I feel like I'm supposed to be here.

I'm hypnotized by everything.

Just when I'm starting to calm down; I hear a chuckle. I've heard that chuckle before. Just like the one of my dream, I'm starting to beg that it's the exact same thing, a dream, but I know that it's not. The chuckle it's real. I hear it really close to me.

It's slow, lazy and rich. Amused. With a grim at the edge of it.

Unmistakable.

Clove.

What is she doing here? Does that was what she meant when they said "dead meat"? Now it's my time to pay? I tense. I want so badly to turn and face her but like I said before, I can't. I hear footsteps and they are getting close to me. My heart it's beating so fast that I think that she can hear it. I keep expecting for something. Whatever she has planned, I'm vulnerable right now.

"Walk." I hear her say while I feel a slight push on my back. I have nothing else to do but do as she says. "Straight ahead." Clove says.

Then I hear another step, from my right side. Clove isn't alone. Of course she's not, she needs help to take me down and pretend like nothing happened.

Just like that we're on the beach. I can smell the salt and seaweed; and feel the sand on my feet. The rhythmic roar of waves. It's peaceful.

"Stop."

I obey automatically. I tried to swallow and found the inside of my mouth it's like glue.

"Clove –" I manage to get out, but I got curt quickly.

"Be quiet!" Her voice is sharp, no laziness now. Like a cat with its claws unsheathed. A sudden pressure at my neck makes me stiffen—someone haves grabbed the bottom of my hood and tightening it warningly. "Don't talk unless you're asked a question. Don't move unless you're told. Do you understand?"

I nod.

A hand move at the back of my neck. Then I feel a glorious rush of cool air as the hood lift away. Light burst in me, and I stare in astonishment at the fantastic scene before my eyes. Black and white, that was my first thought. Everything its stark black and white, like a scene from the surface of the moon.

But there is the moon in front of me. Pure white, just risen, it forms a perfect crescent over the ocean. The ocean it's as black as the sky, except for the ghostly white foam on the waves. And in front of it there is a figure that seems to glow.

Annie?

She is wearing a thin white shift that left her arms bare. Clasped around one upper arm is a wide cuff of silver with strange engraving on it. On her forehead was a sort of diadem with a crescent moon, the horns pointing upward. Her long hair, hanging loose beneath it, seemed to be glowing like stars.

In her hand is a dagger.

With terrifying sharpness I now remember the dream I had of my mother and grandmother in my room. Sacrifice, one of them had said. Was that what I'm here for now? Sacrifice? I stare at the blade of the dagger, at the moonlight shimmering on it. Then I look at Annie's face.

I would never have believed it, no, I wouldn't have believed that you would help Faye do this. But you're here, with a knife. I'm seeing it. How can I not believe my own eyes?

"Turn around." A voice says.

I feel my body turn.

There is a circle drawn in the sand, a big one. Inside and outside are candles, stuck right into the beach. Wax was melting on the sand. The candles are all sizes, all colors. Some look as if they had been burning a long time, from the amount of wax pooled beneath them and the way they have slumped. Every flame is dancing in the slight breeze.

Inside the circle are the members of the Club. My frightened mind register glimpses of faces and no more, like flashes seen in lightning. The same faces I have seen gather around the table in the back room this afternoon. Proud. Beautiful. Alien.

Faye is one of them. She's dressed all in black. And if Annie's hair seemed to be glowing like stars, hers was woven of gloom.

Annie walks and passed me and step into the circle, that's when I notice that the ring on the sand was not complete.

I'm standing just outside the threshold.

My eyes come up to seek Annie's. Annie's expression reveals nothing; her face is pale and distant. My heart, which has been thudding dully, now picked up speed.

Annie speaks, her voice clear and musical, but she's not speaking to me.

"Who challenges her?"

Clove's throaty voice rose in answer. "I do."

I didn't see the dagger, until Clove held it to my throat. t. It pricks, pressing slightly into the hollow, and I feel my eyes widen. I'm trying to hold completely still. Clove's hooded, enigmatic eyes are gazing straight into mine's.

Clove smiles, her slow, scary smile, and the pressure of the blade against my throat increased. "I challenge you," Clove says directly to me. "If there is any fear in your heart, it would be better for you to throw yourself forward on this dagger than to continue. So what is it, Katniss?" she adds, her voice dropping to a lazy, intimate murmur that could scarcely have been heard by the others. "Is there fear in your heart? Careful how you answer."

Fear in my heart? How could not be fear in my heart? They are doing all this craziness! I remember today when Prim said "I don't care what you say; you're never going to make me believe Annie would hurt Bonnie."

Do I have that kind of faith in Annie? Yes. I look into Annie's steady green eyes. Something about this situation makes me think that this is the right thing to do. The other part tells me to back of right now, but I look a t the members of the club. Prim's kind blue eyes, Madge calculating sapphire ones, Finnick's concerned sea-green eyes and Marvel's deep blue-green ones.

All of them watching me, with some kind of hope. Yes, I trust them.

It all looked bad and the walk till here; I don't know what make me get this far but I think that deep on my heart I know the answer. I know I must be here. But, is this supposed to happen like this? I have to find it out.

I look back to Clove's golden eyes. "Go on there is no fear in my heart." I say.

As I say it I feel all the worries and sickness to be here, drop away from me with the scare. Clove smiled at me. There was something like a grim respect on her eyes, she nodded.

"Then step inside." She invites.

Straight forward? Into the dagger blade? I refuse to let my eyes drop from the golden ones in front of me. I hesitate an instant, then step straight forward. The blade yield before me. I can feel tiny trickle of wetness on my throat as it withdrew and Clove steps back. Then I look down. I'm inside the circle.

Annie takes the dagger from Clove and goes to the break in the circle behind me. Drawing the knife through the sand, she bridges the gap, making the circle complete. I had an odd sensation of closure, of something sealing. As if a door had been locked behind me. And as if what is inside the circle is different from anything outside.

"Come to the center," Annie says.

I try to walk tall as she did. Annie's shift, I can see now, is slit all the way up to the hip on one side. There is something on Annie's upper leg. A garter? That is what it looks like. Like the ornamental bands of lace and ribbon that a bride wears to throw at a wedding. Except that this is made of something like green suede and lined with blue silk. It haves a silver buckle.

"Turn around," Annie orders.

I feel hands on my shoulders, spinning me faster and faster. I'm being whirled around and push from side to side, from person to person. For an instant panic surged through me again. I'm dizzy, and disoriented. And that knife was somewhere…

Just go with it. Relax. And magically, my fear dissolved. I let myself be bounce from one person to another. If I fall, I fall. Hands steady me, and put me facing Annie again. I'm slightly breathless and the world is reeling, but I try to draw myself up straight.

"You've been challenged and you've passed the tests," Annie informs me, and now there is a little smile in Annie's green eyes, although her lips are grave. "Now are you willing to swear?"

Swear what? But I nod.

"Will you swear to be loyal to the Circle? Never to harm anyone who stands inside it? Will you protect and defend those who do, even if it costs you your life?"

"Yes."

"Will you swear never to reveal the secrets you will learn, except to a proper person, within a properly prepared Circle like the one we stand in now? Will you swear to keep these secrets from all outsiders, friends and enemies, even if it costs you your life?"

"Yes," I whisper.

"By the ocean, by the moon, by your own blood, will you so swear?"

"Yes."

"Say, 'I will so swear.' "

"I will so swear."

"She has been challenged and tested, and she has been sworn, and now, since all of us in the Circle agree, I call on the Powers to look at her."

Annie raises the dagger above her head, pointing the blade at the sky. Then she points it to the east, toward the ocean, then to the south, then toward the western cliff, then toward the north. Finally, she points it at me. The words she speaks as she did sent shock waves running down my spine:

_Earth and water, fire and air, _

_See your daughter standing there. _

_By dark of moon and light of sun, _

_As I will, let it be done._

_By challenge, trial, and sacred vow, _

_Let her join the Circle now. _

_Flesh and sinew, blood and bone, _

_Katniss now becomes—_

"But we don't all agree," an angry voice says. "I still don't think she's one of us. I don't think she ever can be."

Annie glares at Johanna. "You can't interrupt the ritual!"

"There shouldn't be a ritual," her face is dark.

"You agreed in the meeting—"

"I agreed we had to do whatever it took to make us strong. But—" Johanna stops.

"But some of us may not have believed she'd pass the tests," Clove finishes for her with a smile.

Annie turns to her, angry. "But she did pass the test. And now you've interrupted a ritual—broken it while I was calling down the Powers. I hope you have a better reason than that."

"I'll give you a reason," Johanna says. "She's not really one of us. Her mother married an outsider."

"Then what do you want?" Annie says. "Do you want us never to have a real Circle? You know we need twelve to get anything done. What are we supposed to do, wait until your parents—or the Hendersons— have another baby? None of the rest of us even has both parents alive. No." Annie turns to face the others in the group, who are standing around the inside perimeter of the circle. "We're the last," she tells them. "The last generation in the New World. And if we can't complete our Circle, then it all ends here. With us."

"Our parents and grandparents would like that," Madge says. "They want us to leave it all in the past, the way they did and their parents did. They don't want us digging up the old traditions and waking the Old Powers."

"They're scared," Johanna says scornfully.

"They'll be happy if we can't complete the Circle," Madge says. "But is that what we want?" She looks at Clove.

Clove murmurs coolly, "Individuals can do quite a lot on their own."

"Oh, come on," Prim puts in. "Not like a real Circle. Not unless," she added, "somebody was planning to get hold of the Master Tools and use them all by herself."

Clove gives her a slow, dazzling smile. "I'm not the one searching for the lost tools," she said.

"This is all off the point," says Annie sharply. "The question is, do we want a complete Circle or don't we?"

"We do," one of the Henderson brothers says. No, Marvel. Suddenly I can tell them apart. Both the brothers look white and strained in the moonlight, but Marvel's eyes were less savage. "We're going to do whatever it takes to find out who killed Bonnie," Marvel finishes.

"And then take care of them," Cato puts in.

"Then we need a full Circle," says Madge. "A twelfth person and a seventh girl. Katniss is both."

"And she's passed the tests," Annie repeats. "Her mother was one of us. She went away, yes, but now she's come back. And she brought her daughter to us just when we need her. Just exactly when we need her."

Stubbornness still lingers in Johanna's eyes. "Who says she can even use the Powers?"

"I do," Annie replies steadily. "I can sense it in her."

"And so do I," Clove says unexpectedly. Johanna turns to stare at her, and she smiles ingenuously. "I'd say she can call on Earth and Fire, at least," Clove continues, maddeningly bland. "She might even prove to have quite a talent."

And why, did that make hairs on the back of my neck stand up? Annie's brows are drawn together as she gives Clove a long, searching look. But then she turns to Johanna."Does that satisfy your objection?"

There is a beat. Then Johanna nods, sullenly, and steps back.

"Then." says Annie, with a quiet politeness that seems to overlay an icy anger, "can we please get on with it?"

Everyone stays away as she returns to her position. Once again she lifts the dagger to the sky, then to the cardinal points of the compass, then to me. Once again she spoke the words that had sent chills down my spine, but this time she finished them uninterrupted.

_Earth and water, fire and air, _

_See your daughter standing there. _

_By dark of moon and light of sun, _

_As I will, let it be done._

_By challenge, trial, and sacred vow, _

_Let her join the Circle now. _

_Flesh and sinew, blood and bone, _

_Katniss now becomes our own._

"That's it," Prim says softly. "You're in."

"Katniss."

Annie is unclasping the silver necklace she was wearing. My eyes drawn to the crescent moon pendant that hangs from it. It's like the one on the diadem, and like Johanna's tattoo.

"This is a token," Annie says, fastening the chain around my neck, "of your membership in the Circle." Then she hugs me. It wasn't a spontaneous gesture; it was more the feeling of a ritual.

Next she turns me around to face the others and says, "The Powers have accepted her. I've accepted her. Now each of you has to."

Prim is the first to step up. Her face is serious, but there is a genuine warmth and friendliness in the depths of her blue eyes. She hugs me, then kisses me lightly on the cheek. "I'm glad you're one of us," she whispers, and steps back, her long, light-blond hair fluttering slightly in the breeze.

"Thanks," I whisper.

Madge is next. Her embrace it's more formal, and her cool, intellectual sapphire eyes look at me. But when she say, "Welcome to the Club," she sounds as if she meant it.

Johanna, by contrast, is scowling as she steps forward, and she hugs me as if she were trying to crack a rib or two. She doesn't say anything.

Finnick hurry up, looking eager. He says, "Glad you're in," he tells me softly.

Under normal circumstances the Henderson brothers might have been the worse ones. But tonight they don't seem to care if it was a girl or a block of wood they were embracing. They hug me mechanically and step back to watch again with their angry, faraway eyes.

And then it's Gale's turn

The coldness that surrounds him like a thin layer of dark ice seems only to enhance his looks. He'd stood back and observed the entire ceremony tonight with such detachment, as if none of it affected him one way or another.

Even his embrace is noncommittal. As if he is merely going through the motions while thinking of something else. His arms are strong, though—well, of course. Any guy who had an, arrangement—with Clove would have to be strong.

Glimmer smells of perfume, and when she kisses my cheek, I'm sure she left a smudge of cherry-colored lipstick. Hug her it's like hugging a scented pillow.

Finally, Clove comes. Her heavy-lidded eyes are gleaming enigmatically. She simply murmurs, as she steps back, "So the little white mouse is tougher than she looks. I was betting you wouldn't even last through the ceremony."

"All right," Annie says quietly. "That's it for the initiation ritual. Normally after this we'd have a party or something, but…" She looks at me and lifts her hands. I nod. Tonight, a party could hardly be less appropriate. "So I think we should formally dispel the Circle, but go on and have a regular meeting. That way we can get Katniss caught up on what she needs to know."

There are nods around the circle and a collective breath release. Annie picks up a handful of sand and pours it over the line drawn on the beach. The others follow suit, each pouring a handful and smoothing it down so that the circle's outline is blur, erase. Then they distribute themselves among the still-lighted candles, some sitting on the sand, others on out-thrusts of rock. Gale remains standing, a cigarette in his mouth.

Annie waits until everyone is quiet, looking at her, then she turns to me. Her face is grave and her green eyes are earnest. "Now that you're one of us," she says simply, "I think it's time to tell you what we are."

I think about it for a time, I think that I already know the answer; something inside of me it's trying to tell me. "I think that I already know." I say slowly.

"Oh, yeah? Why don't you tell us then." Clove says.

"I know that you can light fires without matches. And that you don't use feverfew just in salads."

Clove examines her nails, looking innocent, and Prim smiles ruefully.

"I know everybody's afraid of you at school, even the adults. They're afraid of anyone who lives on Crowhaven Road."

"They're going to be more afraid," says Cato Henderson.

"I know you use rocks for spot remover—"

"Crystals," murmurs Annie.

"—and there's something more than tea leaves in your tea. And I know"—I swallow and then go on, deliberately—"that you can push somebody without touching them, and make them fall."

There is a silence at this. Several people look at Clove. Clove tilts her chin back and looks at the ocean with narrowed eyes.

"You're right," Annie says. "You've learned a lot from just watching—and we've been a little lax with security. But I think you should hear the entire story from the beginning."

"I'll tell it," says Clove. And when Annie looks at her doubtfully, she adds, "Why not? I like a good story. And I certainly know this one."

"All right," says Annie. "But could you please try to stick to the point? I know your stories, Clove."

"Certainly," Clove says blandly. "Now, let me see, where shall I start? Once upon a time," she says, "there was a quaint little village called Salem. And it was just filled with quaint little Puritans—all-American, hardworking, honest, brave, and true—"

"Clove—"

"Just like some people here we all know, these Puritans were filled with pure little thoughts—most of them. A few just may have been unhappy with their boring little Puritan lives, all work, no play, dresses up to here"—she indicates her neck—"and six hours of church on Sundays…"

"Clove," says Annie.

"And the neighbors," Clove says. "All those neighbors who watched you, gossiped about you, monitored you to make sure you weren't wearing an extra button on your dress or smiling on your way to meeting. You had to be meek in those days, and keep your eyes down, and do as you were told without asking questions. If you were a girl, anyway. You weren't even allowed to play with dolls because they were things of the devil."

"And maybe some of those young girls weren't so happy," Clove says. "Who knows? But anyway, one winter a few of them got together to tell fortunes. They shouldn't have, of course. It was wicked. But they did it anyway. One of them had a slave who came from the West Indies and knew about fortune-telling. It helped to while away those long, dull winter nights."

"But it preyed on their poor little Puritan minds," Clove says. "They felt guilty. And eventually one of them had a nervous collapse. She got sick, delirious, and she confessed. Then the secret was out. And all the other young girls were on the hot seat. It wasn't good in those days to get caught fooling around with the supernatural. The grown-ups didn't like it. So the poor little Puritan girls had to point the finger at somebody else."

"And they did," Clove says pleasantly. "They pointed at the West Indian slave, and then at a couple of other old women they didn't like. Women with a bad reputation around the village. And when they pointed, they said… witch."

"And do you know what? It worked. Nobody blamed them for their little fortune-telling games. Everyone was too busy hunting out the witches in their midst. The only problem, was that those Puritans couldn't recognize a witch if they fell over one. They looked for women who were offbeat, or too independent, or… rich. Convicted witches forfeited their worldly goods, so it could be quite a profitable business to accuse them. But all the while the real witches were right there under their noses."

"Because, you see," Clove says softly, "there really were witches at Salem. Not the poor women—and men—they accused. They didn't even get one right. But the witches were there, and they didn't like what was happening. It hit a little too close to home. A few of them even tried to stop the witch trials—but that only tended to arouse suspicion. It was too dangerous even to be a friend of one of the prisoners."

"What happened?" I ask.

"To the accused witches? They died. The unlucky ones, at least, the ones who wouldn't confess. Nineteen were hanged before the governor put a stop to it. The last public executions took place exactly three hundred years ago… September 22, the fall equinox, 1692. No, the poor accused witches didn't have much luck. But the real witches… well… the real witches got away. Discreetly, of course. After the fuss was over. They quietly packed up and moved north to start their own little village, where no one would point fingers because everyone would be the same. And they called their little village…"

"New Salem, incorporated 1693." I say softly.

"Yes. Just one year after the trials ended. So you see, that's how our little town was founded. With just the twelve members of that coven, and their families. We"—Clove gestures gracefully around the group— "are what's left of the descendants of those twelve families. Their only descendants. While the rest of the riffraff you see around the school and the town, are the descendants of the servants. The help," Clove says sweetly. "Or of outsiders who drifted in and were allowed to settle here. But those twelve houses on Crowhaven Road are the houses of the original families. Our families. They intermarried and kept their blood pure—most of them, anyway. And eventually they produced us."

"You have to understand," Annie says quietly from my side. "Some of what Clove has told you is speculation. We don't really know what caused the witch hunts in 1692. But we do know what happened with our own ancestors because we have their journals, their old records, their spell books. Their Books of Shadows." She turns and picks something up off the sand.

"This," Annie says, holding it up, "was my great-great-grandmother's. She got it from her mother, who got it from her mother, and so on. Each of them wrote in it; they recorded the spells they did, the rituals, the important events in their lives. Each of them passed it on to the next generation."

"Until our great-grandmothers' time, anyway," says Johanna. "Maybe eighty, ninety years ago. They decided the whole thing was too scary."

"They hid the books and tried to forget the old knowledge," says Annie. "They taught their kids it was wrong to be different. They tried to be normal, to be like the outsiders."

"They were wrong," Marvel says. He leans forward, his jaw set, his face etched with pain. "We can't be like them. Bonnie knew that. She—" He broke off and shakes his head.

"It's okay, Marvel," Prim says softly. "We know."

"They hid the old stuff, but we found it," Finnick says. "We wouldn't take no for an answer."

"No, we wouldn't," Says Madge, casting an amused glance at him. "Of course, some of us were busy playing Batman while the older ones were rediscovering our heritage."

"And some of us had a little more natural talent than others," Clove adds."A little more natural—flair—for calling on the Powers."

"That's right," says Prim. She raises her eye-brows and then looks significantly at Annie. "Some of us do."

"We all have talent," Annie says. "We started discovering that when we were really young—babies, practically. Even our parents couldn't ignore it. They did try to keep us from using it for a while, but most of them have given up."

"Some of them even help us," Prim says. "Like my grandmother. But we still get most of what we need from the old books." I thought about my own grandmother. Had she been trying to help me?

"Or from our own heads," says Cato. He grins a wild and handsome grin and for an instant looks again like the boy who'd gone racing through the hallways on roller blades. "It's instinct, you know? Pure instinct. Primal."

"Our parents and outsiders don't understand," Annie says softly. "Even among ourselves not everybody realizes that the Powers can be used for good. But we're the ones who can call on the Powers, and we know. That's what's important."

Prim nods. "My grandmother says there will always be outsiders who hate us. There's nothing we can do but try and keep away from them."

"Do you mean," I say, "that even adults know what you—what we are? Outsider adults?"

"Only the ones around here," Annie says. "The ones who grew up on the island. They've known for centuries—but they've always kept quiet. If they want to live here, they have to. That's just the way it is."

"For the last few generations, relations have been very good between our people and the outsiders," Madge says, "That's what our grandparents say, anyhow. But now we've stirred things up. The outsiders may not keep quiet forever. They might try to do something to stop us—"

"Might? They already have," Johanna says. "What do you think happened to Bonnie?"

"That's enough! This isn't the time," she says. "What happened to Bonnie is one of the things our Circle is going to find out. Now that we're complete, we should be able to do it. But not tonight. And as long as I'm leader—"

"Temporary leader. Until November," Clove puts in sharply.

"As long as I'm temporary leader, we'll do things when I say and not jump to any conclusions. All right?" Annie looks around at them.

"All right. And tonight is for initiating Katniss." She looks at me. "Do you have any questions?"

Do I have? I don't know, this too much information to process on this little time; so I just shake my head.

"Well, then," Clove says. "Now that you've heard our story, we have just one question to ask you; are you planning to be a good witch or a bad witch?"

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ Line break_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

**That was Chapter Five! On the next Chapter there is going to be Peeta! I hope that this chapter have answered questions that you had. Please review!**

**Lots of love,**

**Mar**


	6. Chapter Six

**Hey everyone! I'm sorry I couldn't update Friday I was busy with school stuff and I couldn't write in the whole week, but well here it's chapter six! Finally Peeta it's going to appear! This chapter is like the other it's Katniss P.O.V. Please tell me what you think about it, do I keep writing like this? Please review!**

**Chapter Six**

'_Very funny,'_ I think, but actually there is nothing funny about it. But still, I guess that there is a deadly side to Clove's question. Somehow I don't see at all Clove wanting to use the powers – whatever those are – for good. And I don't see Annie wanting to use them for anything else.

"Does anybody have anything more to say? Questions, comments, club business?" Annie is looking around the group. "Then I'm declaring the meeting over. You can all go or stay as you like. We'll have another meeting tomorrow afternoon to honor Bonnie and talk about a plan of action."

There are a few murmurs on the group, voices turn to one another and get up. The electric tension that had held the group together haves dissipated, but there is an unfinished feeling in the air, as if nobody really wants to leave yet. Glimmer goes to the back of one rock and pulls out several wet six-packs of diet soft drinks. Prim goes behind another rock and returned with large thermos.

"It's rose-hip tea." She says, pouring a cup of fragrant, dark red liquid and smiling at me. "No tea leaves at all, but it'll warm you up and make you feel better. Roses are soothing and purifying."

"Thanks," I say, taking it gratefully. Her head is spinning. Information overload, I think.

'_I'm a witch,_' I think. _'Half a witch, anyway. And Mom and Grandma—they're both hereditary witches.'_ It's a bizarre and almost impossible notion to swallow.

I take another gulp of the hot, sweet drink, shivering.

"Here," Madge says. She removes the pale green shawl that she's wearing and put it around my shoulders. "We're used to the cold; you're not. If you want, we can make a fire."

"No, I'm fine with the shawl," I say, tucking my bare feet under me. "It's beautiful—is it very old?"

"It was my great-grandmother's great-grandmother's—if you can believe the old stories." Madge says. "We usually get more dressed up for Circles—we can wear anything we feel like, and sometimes it gets outrageous. But tonight…"

"Yes." I nod in understanding. Madge is being nicer than usual, I think. More like Prim or Annie. It puzzle me for a moment—and then I got it.

'_I'm one of them,_' I think, _'I'm a full member of the Club.'_

I look at Madge quietly sipping my tea, and at Prim straightening a pink candle that is slumping over. Then I look at Annie, standing a little distance up the beach with the Henderson brothers, the three heads close together. Annie seems to feel no self-consciousness about wearing the thin white shift and the fancy jewelry. It seems a natural costume for her.

'_My people_,' I think. Then I look at Johanna and Glimmer, deep in conversation, and at Clove, who is listening with a bland smile to something Finnick is excitedly saying, and at Gale, who is staring silently out at the ocean, a can of something that isn't soda in his hand.

'_Even them,'_ I think. _'I guess that I'll try and get along with all the other members, with everyone who shared my blood. Even the ones who'd tried to keep me out.'_ I look back at Prim, to find the slim, blond-haired girl watching me with the hint of a sympathetic smile.

"A lot to deal with at once," Prim says knowingly.

"Yes. But I guess it's exciting, too."

Prim smiles. "So now that you're a witch," she says, "what's the first thing you're going to do?"

I laugh, feeling something almost like intoxication. _'Power,_' I think_. 'There's so much Power out there—and now I can take it.'_ I shake my head and lift the hand that isn't holding rose-hip tea. "What can we do?" I say. "I mean what sorts of things?"

Prim and Madge exchanges glances. "Basically, you name it," Madge says. She picks up the book that Annie had show me earlier and riffles through it, showing me the pages. They are yellowing and brittle and covered with cramped, illegible writing. They are also cover with pink Post-it notes and plastic tape flags. Almost every page haves one and some haves several.

"This is the first Book of Shadows we got hold of," says Madge. "We found it in Annie's attic. Since then we've found others. Every family is supposed to have one. We've been working on this one for maybe five years, deciphering the spells and copying them out in modern language. I'm even putting it on my computer for easier cross-reference."

"Sort of a Floppy Disk of Shadows," I say.

Prim grins. "Right. And it's funny, you know, but once you start learning spells and rituals, it seems to wake up something inside you, and you start coming up with your own."

"Instinct." I say.

"Right," says Prim. "We all have it, some more than others. And some of us are better than others at certain things, like calling on the different Powers. I work best with Earth." Prim takes a handful of sand and let it trickle through her fingers.

"Three guesses as to what Clove works best with," Madge says dryly.

"But anyway, to answer your question, there's lots we can do," Prim says. "It all depends on your taste. Spells of protection, of defense—"

"Or attack," puts in Madge, with a glance toward Johanna and Glimmer.

"—spells for little things, like lighting fires, and for big ones, like—well, you'll find out. Charms for healing, and for finding things out—scrying and divining. Love potions— "

"There's a certain amount of debate over the ethics of love potions and love spells," Madge is saying, her sapphire eyes not entirely approving. "Some people feel it violates a person's free will, you know. And a spell misused can rebound on the person who casts it—threefold. Some people don't feel it's worth the risk."

"And other people," Prim says mock solemnly, her blue eyes sparkling, "say that all's fair in love and war. If you know what I mean."

Madge rolls her eyes. And then I remember something that it's been on the back of my mind. "I have a question, are there any outsiders that know about… the circle, and that they support us?" I ask thinking of Thresh.

"Of course! You see there are people that think that what we do it's like a miracle, that they know that whatever we do it won't do any harm." Prim explains.

"For example: Thresh and his family." Madge says.

"There are other outsides around the Island that know and help us too," Prim continues, "they normally do little things like: help us to find crystals, plants and stuff."

"Some of them do it for fear and with the idea that if they help us we're on debt and we're supposed to do whatever they want, like fame or money, but they don't know that we can't do that happen in the blink of an eye." Madge says.

"We know some spells and rituals that help to attract all that kind of stuff, but it needs to be done like an action of purity and selfless; so we don't do it." Prim says. It's too much information but at the same time it's interesting and intriguing. There are so many things that they- I mean we- can do, and I thought that all those things could only happen on movies and stories, well I guess I was wrong.

So now that I know this, what am I going to do? I could do so much, way too much. I'm a witch. _Witch. _Then I remember. That was the word that Cashmere used at the beach, the one that I confused with bitch. It makes sense. The boy on the beach, like the ones on the circle, had hair that changed of color and looked especial; his eyes were different from all the ones that I've seen; he said something about that were he comes from, they wouldn't dare to do anything to him; and there was the connection…

'_Don't be stupid,'_ I think to myself, _'you're only giving yourself hope, it's not going to change nothing.' _I sigh. Of course I'm wrong. The odds are not in my favor. The chances of that happening are–

A wet nose thrust under my hand.

Something like a shriek got on my throat while I stare at the liquid brown eyes and the short, silky-bristly hairs on the muzzle. The dog stares back at me, mouth open and laughing, as if to say, "Aren't you happy to see me?"

I slowly got on my feet and look up to see the dog's master. Like the day on the beach he's staring at me, his hair looks like lighter against the moon light. And there were again his beautiful blue eyes that caught my attention one more time. He's smiling at me, like actually smiling at me. We stay like that for a few seconds but to me it feels like minutes. It's not that we hear someone clear his throat that we snap back to reality. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I turn to see that it's only Annie that it's standing next to me. "Katniss, this is Peeta Mellark, the last member of the circle."

Part of me it's saying all over again _'I knew it!' _and the other part it's confused.

"I think that we already meet." Peeta says.

The next thing that I know it's that the other members of the circle are already there, listening every word. "How is that?" Johanna asks, obviously annoyed.

"She saved me." He answerers and I feel all the eyes on me. I turn to see that I'm right. Every one of them it's watching me. Cato and Marvel are wearing confused looks; Prim, Finnick, Annie and Madge are smiling slightly; Glimmer and Johanna are frowning; Clove it's looking between Peeta and I, like if searching for something; Gale, well Gale as always, his face is expressionless; and then I see Peeta, he is looking down at me with a grin on his face.

I hate attention.

Fortunately Peeta seems to notice my discomfort, because he quickly changes the subject. "What's wrong? I tried to get back for Bonnie's initiation, but where is she? What's going on?" He looks back at me.

"This is Katniss Everdeen," Annie says. "She's Mrs. Howard's granddaughter, and she's just moved here. And we just initiated her instead of Bonnie."

"What? Why?" He looks to Annie.

There is a silence, finally Madge speaks, her voice it's soft and quiet. "Because this morning, or yesterday morning, rather, since it's really Wednesday now, Bonnie's body was found at the bottom of the school hill. Her neck was broken."

"Oh, God." He seems to have a problem to find the right words, he close his eye for a brief moment, then he looks at the Henderson brothers. "Marvel… Cato…"

Cato's teeth are clenched. "Outsiders did it." He says.

"Delly did it." Johanna snarls.

"We don't know who did it." Annie says. She speaks with passionate force. "And we're not going to do anything until we find out."

Peeta nods. "And you." He says looking toward the back of the group. "What have you been doing to help while all this was going on?"

"Not a damn thing." Gale says. He's been standing with his arms folded over his chest, watching impassively. Now his defiant gaze meets Peeta's and locks with it. You don't need to know them from years to see that it's clear that there's no love lost between the two.

"He has been helping, Peeta," Annie says, forestalling whatever Peeta was about to say next. "He's come to meetings, and he's here tonight. That's all we can ask."

"It's not all I can ask," Peeta says.

"Ask away. You're not going to get anything more." Gale turns around. "I'm out of here."

"Oh, don't go…" Prim begins, but Gale is already leaving.

"I've been showing up because Annie asked, but I'm through now. I've had enough for tonight," he says over his shoulder. Then he is gone.

Clove turns to Peeta and smiles her slowest, most dazzling smile. She puts her hands together and claps. "Beautiful job, Peeta. Here Annie has spent the last three weeks slaving to keep the troops together and you undo it all in the first three minutes. I couldn't have done better myself."

"Oh, get stuffed, Clove," says Prim.

Meanwhile, I'm reconsidering everything; his name it's Peeta; he's a member of the circle, it makes sense, Annie said that he was visiting, but I think it was more that that; and I save him from what? Whatever it was, it makes a difference. Cashmere and his brother have something to do with it; I'll have to ask later.

"So, about the other thing… how did she saved you?" Finnick asks, looking between Peeta and I. Here we go.

Peeta looks at me; there is again the same grin that sends butterflies to my stomach. '_Ignore it Katniss_,' I say to myself, _'ignore it.' _He must notice my discomfort again because he gives the simplest explanation.

"Well she saved me from witch-hunters." Peeta says, oh so that was from what I saved him…

"How?" Prim asks, her eyes with a glint of excitement. Fortunately Clove interrupts.

"Who cares what wonder girl did," Clove says, wonder girl? "Did you at least complete your work or did you come back empty-handed?"

Peeta smiles at her; it was mischievous and full of promise of secrets. "What? You don't expect us to believe…"

He grins at the rest of the group and turns to Finnick. "Finnick, go get that." He says gesturing to a bag on the sand.

Finnick takes it. "It's heavy."

"Peeta…" Prim whispers, her eyes wide.

Peeta takes the bag from Finnick and pulls it down. "Too bad that Gale was in such a hurry to get away, if he'd stayed, he might have seen this." He reaches inside with both hands and pulls out a skull.

It's the size and shape of a human skull, but it seems to be made entirely crystal. The moonlight reflects through it, inside it. It haves grinning crystal teeth, and its hollow eye sockets seems to be staring directly at me.

There is a frozen instant, and then Clove grabs for it.

"Uh-uh." Peeta says, holding it away from her. "No."

"Where did you get that?" says Clove; her voice no longer lazy, but full of barely contained excitement.

I see a swift glace between Madge, Annie and Peeta. "On an island."

"Which Island?"

"I didn't know you were so interested. You never seemed to be before."

Clove glares. "One way or another I'll find out, Peeta."

"There's nothing else where I found it. Believe me, this was the only one of the Master Tools hidden there."

Clove takes a breath and relaxes and smiles. "Well the least you can do it's give us all a chance to look at it."

"No." says Annie. "Nobody touches yet. We don't know anything about this except that it was used by the old coven… by Black John himself. That means it's dangerous."

"Yes." Peeta says. "At least, it fits the description in the old records exactly. And I found it in a place just like the place Black John described. I think it's the real thing."

"Then it needs to be cleared and purified and studied before any of us work with it," Annie says. She turns to me. "Black John was one of the leaders of the original coven," she says. "He died not long after New Salem was founded, but before that he took the coven's most powerful tools and hid them. For safekeeping, he said—but really because he wanted them for himself. For personal gain and revenge," she says, looking at Clove meaningfully. "He was an evil man, and anything he touched is going to be full of negative influences. We're not going to use it until we're sure it's safe."

If this skull haves anything to do with Black John, then it's bad. I can feel the energy emanating from it. It's almost dizzy.

"The old coven never found the lost Master Tools," Prim is saying. "They searched, because Black John had left some clues about where he might have hidden them, but they didn't have any luck. They made new tools, but none were ever as powerful as the originals."

"And now we've find one." Finnick says with joy.

"Yeah, well, whatever it does, can wait till tomorrow," Says Marvel, meanwhile he yawned.

"Yes, I need my beauty sleep." Glimmer says. Prim rolled her eyes at this one.

"Of course, it's been an exhausting day, we'll talk about this tomorrow." Annie says.

Everyone nods and agrees. Annie tells Madge and Prim to take me home. And I accidentally met Peeta's gaze. There is an odd expression in his face, I can't say what is it but it matches perfectly with his beautiful smile. I blush; I can only hope that it's too dark so nobody notice it. I quickly turn to the other side and met Clove's gaze. There is a calculating look on her golden eyes that I try to avoid.

Madge appears behind me. "Ready to go?" I nod and start walking.

The ride home is silent and at home there is a light from the outside. Prim and Madge walk me inside, and we find my mother and grandmother both sitting on the old-fashioned couch. They were looking at me intensely. I smile at them.

"So, grandma do we have a book of shadows?" I ask her.

She laughs and my mother smiles. "Not that I know dear, but any time you like we'll take another look to the attic."

The meeting on Wednesday was tense. Clove clearly only wanted to talk about the skull, we should use it and if not use it at least check it out. She was saying all over again.

But Annie only said no activate it. No checking it out. No nothing. She said something about that we need to purify it first or ground it. And that it would take weeks.

Clove said at the Henderson brothers that that is the only way to find out who kill Bonnie and of course they started arguing that they should use it. I could tell its all part of Clove's plan.

Clove said that if they don't use it she'll call for the leadership-vote. What I don't understand it's what does Clove means with calling the leadership-vote? They say something about November but I don't understand. Another thing that I'll have to ask later…

Other thing that happens at the meeting is that I've caught Peeta watching me when he thought I wasn't, every time that he did that, he smiled at me, and to be honest I returned every single one of those with a blush and a smile.

When I got the chance to ask Prim what does the leadership means, she explained to me that Annie it's only a temporary leader. On November is the official vote between Clove and Annie. Great! That only clears one part, now I've got to find out why on November…

After all that drama, begging and scream; Annie agreed.

"All right," she said. "We'll have a meeting on Saturday night, we'll just try to activate it no more. Happy?" Annie asked flatly at Clove.

Which she returned with her lazy smile. "Yes, Saturday night."

Friday was Bonnie's funeral. I only stood there with the other members of the circle, I was between Prim and Annie, and they were crying and I, well since I didn't know her, stood there with my arm around Prim while she cried on my shoulder and was saying reassuring words. I went like that then a fight broke out between Cato Henderson and Darius Aurelius, the boy Bonnie had gone with that summer. It took the entire Club to get them apart. The adults seemed scared to touch them.

Finally, today is Saturday, and I'm on Annie's room, just the two of us. It's more than obvious that she is worry about the skull ceremony, she keeps pacing around the room; to be honest I'm nervous too, I try to distract her and also hope that it works for me too.

I notice another wall with more prints like the ones that I had seen on the first day.

"Are these goddesses too?" I ask.

"Yes, well only this one. That's Persephone, daughter of the goddess of growing things." Annie's voice is soft with tiredness, but she smiles at the picture. It shows a slender girl laughing as she picks an armful of flowers. All around her it is springtime, and her face is filled with the joy of being young and alive.

"And who's that?"

"That's a muse, the witches believe that in the beginning there was only one muse right before they separate and made nine, the muses are inspiration." There is a tall girl on the picture, something about her deep blue eyes, looks full of wisdom and intelligence, Madge eyes are like those…

I turn to the next print. "And who's–"

Just then there is the sound of voices downstairs. "Hello? Anybody up there? The front door was unlocked."

"Come on up," Annie calls. "My dad's at work—as usual."

"Here," Prim says, appearing in the doorway. "I thought you might like these. I got them along the way." She pulls out an armful of mixed flowers to Annie.

"Oh, Bouncing Bet! They're such a pretty pink, and I can dry them for soap later. And wild snapdragon and sweet melilot. I'll go get a vase."

"I would have brought some roses from the garden, but we used them all for purifying the skull."

Madge smiles at me. "So how's our newest witch?" she says, her cool blue eyes not unsympathetic. "Totally confused?"

"Well… a little confused. I mean"—I pick at random one of the things I don't understand "how do you purify a skull with roses?"

"You'd better ask Prim that; she's the expert on plants."

"And Madge," Prim says. "It's the expert on crystals, and this is a crystal skull."

"But just what is a crystal, exactly?" I say. "I don't think I even know that."

"Well." Madge sits down at Annie's desk as Annie comes back and begins to arrange the flowers. Prim

and I sit on the bed. I really do want to know about the things the Circle uses to do magic.I'm still a witch.

"Well, some people call crystals 'fossilized water,' " Madge says, her voice taking on a mock-lecturing

tone. "Water combines with an element to make them grow. But I like to think of them as a beach."

Prim snorts and I blink. "A beach?"

Madge smiles. "Yes. A beach is sand and water, right? And sand is silicon. When you put silicon with

water, under the right conditions, it forms silicon dioxide—quartz crystal. So water plus sand plus heat

plus pressure equals a crystal. The remains of an ancient beach."

"And that's what the skull is made of?"

"Yes. It's clear quartz. There are other kinds of quartz too; other colors. Amethyst is purple. Prim, are

you wearing any?"

"What a question. Especially with a ceremony tonight." Prim pushes her long, light-Blond hair back to

show me her ears. In each she is wearing a dangling crystal of a deep violet color. "I like

amethysts," she explains. "They're soothing and balancing. If you wear them along with rose quartz, it

helps draw love to you."

"What other stones are there?" I ask Madge.

"Oh, lots. In the quartz family there's citrine—Johanna wears a lot of that. It's yellow and it's good for

physical activity. Energy. Fitness. That sort of thing."

"Deborah needs a little less energy," Prim mutters.

"I like to wear barnacle." Says Madge, twisting her left wrist to show me a bracelet. I haves crystal hanging, and around it there are a lot of little crystals. "The larger crystal is the "Old Soul" and contains the wisdom and trust which attracts the smaller crystals."

"Gemstones have been used since the beginning by ancient peoples—and sometimes even for

the right things. The problem is that they're only as good as the person using them. They can store energy and help you call on the Powers, but only if you have the talent for it in the first place. So for most people they're pretty useless." Annie says.

"But not for us," says Prim. "Although they don't always work the way you'd expect. Things can get out of control. Remember when Glimmer simply covered herself in carnelians and almost got mobbed at the football game? I thought there was going to be a riot."

Madge laughs. "Carnelians are orange and very—stimulating," she says to me. "You can get people overexcited if you use them wrong. Glimmer was trying to attract the quarterback, but she nearly wound up with the entire team. I'll never forget her in the bathroom, pulling all those carnelians out of her clothes." I burst into laugh at the picture.

"You're not supposed to wear orange or red stones all the time," Prim adds, grinning. "But of course Glimmer won't listen. Neither will Clove."

"That's right," I say, remembering. "Clove does wear a red stone on her necklace."

"It's a star ruby," Madge says. "They're rare, and that one's very powerful. It can amplify passion—or anger—very quickly."

Makes sense why she's always like that. There is something else that I want to ask. "What about the Chalcedony stone? Is that good for anything?"

"Oh, yes. It has a protective influence—it can guard you against the harshness of the world." Madge says.

"All the crystals have their use, but its better when you find your working crystal." Prim says. "It gives you more balance and power."

"How do you know when you find it?" I ask.

"You simply know it." Annie says. "The simplest way to know it's put you in total calm. Then hold the crystal in your right hand with the point towards you. Feel it physically. You need to be open to sensations like Tingling, or change in temperature. Also feel the crystal emotionally."

"The crystals have their uses. There are crystals are especially useful for obtaining information from deep within yourself or from sources that are outside of your normal realm, these are channeling crystals, is also a line of communication with sources outside yourself." Madge says.

"There are also Grounding crystals, these help you deal with practical matters in a realistic way. They connect you with the earth and keep your energies from being scattered. They help you think clearly and express yourself clearly." Prim says.

"There are a lot of families," says Madge. "Some have more use than others."

That's a lot of information to take in, and it's not even the half of information of it. How am I going to learn this? I don't know but it's so interesting that I want to learn more. I wonder when I am going to find my working crystal.

After moments of random talking Annie say all the it's been on our mind. "I'm worried myself, we shouldn't be doing this yet, but we don't have a choice."

Madge says to me, "You see, the skull absorbed energies from whoever used it last. Like an imprint of what was done, and who did it. We want to see what those are. So we'll all concentrate on it, and see what it will show us. Of course, we might not be able to activate it at all. Sometimes only a certain person can do that, or a certain code of sounds or lights or movements. But if we can, and if it's safe, we can eventually use its energy to show us things—like maybe who killed Bonnie."

"The larger the crystal, the more energy in it," Annie says bleakly. "And this is a big crystal."

"But why did the old coven carve it into a skull?" I ask.

"They didn't," Madge says. "We don't know who did, but it's much older than three hundred years. There are other crystal skulls out there in the world—nobody really knows how many. Most of them are in museums and things—there's one, the British Skull, that's in the Museum of Mankind in England. And the Templar Skull belongs to some secret society in France. Our old coven just got hold of this one somehow and used it."

"Black John used it," Annie corrects. "I wish Peeta had found any of the other Master Tools instead of this one. This one was his, Black John's favorite, and I think he might have used it to get rid of people. I'm afraid that tonight—I don't know. But I'm afraid something awful is going to happen."

"We won't let it." A new voice says at the door.

"Finnick," says Annie. She relaxes visibly as he comes over to the window seat to kiss her and sits beside her. She always seems both more tranquil and more radiant whenever he's around.

"We'll keep the ceremony under strict control tonight," he says. "And if anything dangerous starts to happen, we'll just stop it cold. Did you get the garage ready?"

"No, I was waiting for you. We can take it down now." Annie unlocks the large cabinet, and the crystal skull resting in a Pyrex baking dish full of pink rose petals.

"I've used salt and rainwater to try and clear it," Annie says. "But what it really needs is a full course of crystals and flower essences, and then to be buried in moist sand for a few weeks."

"We'll take every precaution," Finnick says. "A triple circle of protection. It'll be all right." He picks up the skull, with a few rose petals still clinging to it, and he and Annie left for the garage.

"Don't be nervous," Madge tell me. "You won't really have to do anything at the ceremony. You won't be able to; it takes a long time to get the hang of scrying—years, usually. All you have to do is sit there and not break the Circle."

Annie's garage is empty—of cars, at least. The floor is clean and bare, except for a circle drawn in white chalk.

"I'm sorry to make us all sit on concrete," Annie says, "but I wanted to do this inside—where I can be sure the wind won't blow out one of the candles."

There are a number of white candles lying at the center of the circle. They form a smaller ring. In the very center of that, something draped with a piece of black cloth sat on a shoe box.

"All right," Annie says to the rest of the group, who had arrived in small clusters and is now standing in the garage. "Let's get this thing over with."

She had change into her white shift and jewelry. Looking at them now, I guess that the diadem and cuff bracelet—and maybe even the garter—have some mystic significance. We watch Annie "cast" the circle, going around it with the dagger and then with water and then incense and then a lit candle. Earth, water, air, and fire. There are also some incantations, which I try to follow. But when they all fill into the circle and sit down knee to knee as Annie instructed, any interest in the actual ceremony flew right out of my mind.

Somehow I end up between Clove and Peeta. I don't know how that even happen; I was lined to sit next to Finnick, but somehow Clove got in front of me, maybe she doesn't want to seat next to Peeta, yeah well neither I. But probably for a different reason, it's just that the feeling of his warm next to me it's too much, too much for me. I resist the impulse to shift closer to him.

What its wrong with me?! Since when do I want so desperately to be close to a boy?! I'm definitely losing my mind.

I try to focus on something else, whatever it's better that this, but it's his warm or the smell of some heady, tropical perfume that Clove is wearing. It makes me feel dizzy but I guess its better that nothing.

Then the lights go out.

"All right," Annie says quietly. "We're just going to be looking for the last imprints left. Nothing more than that; nobody goes in really deep until we know what we're dealing with. And I don't have to tell anybody that whatever happens, we don't break the circle." She doesn't look at me as she says it, but several of the others do, as if to imply that maybe she does have to say it.

Annie touches the candle flame to the candle Madge held out to her. The flame doubles. Then Madge leans over to light Johanna's candle, and there are three flames. The fire goes around the circle until Prim gives it to Peeta. I hate myself when I see that my hand is trembling as I pull up my candle to receive the flame from him.

At last all twelve candles are lit and stuck in their own wax to the concrete floor. Each shed a pool of radiance and cast huge dark shadows of the seated figures on the walls.

Annie reaches into the ring of candles and pulls off the black cloth.

I gasp.

The skull is facing me directly, its empty eye sockets staring at me. But that isn't the most alarming thing. The skull is glowing. The candle flames around it play on it, and the crystal in turn reflects and refracts the light. It almost looks… alive.

Around the circle the others straightened, tensed.

"Now," says Annie. "Find someplace inside the skull that interests you. Concentrate on it, look at the details. Then look for more details. Keep looking until you find yourself drawn into the crystal."

Someplace that interests me? Like what? _'Just look at it!'_ I command to myself. There are gossamer webs and what look like wisps of smoke inside it. There is an internal fracture that seems to be acting as prisms to form miniature landscapes. The closer I look the more detail I see. That looks like a spiral or tornado. And that—that looks almost like a door. And a face…

I jerk my eyes away, stomach lurching. Don't be stupid; it's just imperfections in the crystal. _'Look at it, now!' _And I do, but I can't find the face again. But inside the skull it looks like if there is something moving, like if the skull is made of water…

Oh, stop it and pick a detail. I'm looking—just looking. I can see the door. The more carefully I look, the larger it seems. Or perhaps I'm coming closer.

Yes, closer… closer. I'm losing my sense of space. The skull is so large now; it seems to have no boundaries, no shape. It's all around me. It haves become the world. The door is right in front of me.

I'm inside the skull.

**That was Chapter Six! Finally Peeta appeared! I hope you guys have like it, sorry again for updating late! I'll update this Friday! Please tell me what you think of Katniss P.O.V. Should I leave it like that or do I change it back? Please review!**

**Lots of love,**

**Mar**


	7. Chapter Seven

**Hey everyone! Well I particularly loved this chapter, it was fun to write, it's shorted than usual but I've had a lot of homework. Please update! Help me to get 30 reviews and the next chapter will be longer! This one haves Peeta-Katniss scenes. Here we go.**

**Chapter Seven**

The door is no longer tiny but life-size, large enough to go in. It's ajar, and colored light streams from the other side.

Inside the skull, I look at the door, my heart beating do hard. If it opened, could I go inside? I wonder. But how could it open? Maybe if I just imagine it opening… but that doesn't seem to do any good. What had Madge said? Crystals help us to call the powers. What powers would be connected with a clear crystal? Earth and water? For sand and sea?

I concentrate in the door, willing it to open. As I stare at it, it did seems that there is more rainbow light spilling out. More… and more_. 'Keep it opening,'_ I say to myself. _'Let it drawn you closer.' _I'm floating in the front door now. It's huge, like the door to a cathedral. Opening… opening… I'm drowing in rainbow light.

Now! Go in!

It's a scream of terror, high and wild, and it lanced through the utter silence. The door stops opening, and I feel myself being pull backward. The door is receding, faster, faster. Then, just before I found myself outside the skull, a face flashes before my eyes. The same face I'd seen before. But it isn't receding; it's traveling, directing to me. Getting bigger. Bigger and bigger so fast—it could burst the crystal. It could—

"No!" Annie cries.

I feel it at the same instant, an overwhelming sense of evil. Of something rushing towards us at incredible speed. Something that needs to be stopped.

I'll never quite know what happens next. Cato is sitting on the other side of Clove. How did he get in there? I thought that Finnick was on that side. Maybe he is the one who moved first; maybe he panicked and tried to bolt. In any case there was a commotion. Clove seemed to be trying to do something and Cato to stop her; or maybe it's the other way around. They are struggling. Annie is crying, "No, no!"

I don't know what to do.

I try to check my instinctive flinching away from Clove, but it doesn't matter. Clove lurches forward and I feel the pressure of Clove's knee leave mine. The circle is broken, and Clove's candle goes out.

Instantly all the other candles are snuffed out too, as if by a blast of wind. In the same instant I feel the rushing thing reach the limits of the crystal. It bursts out of the skull and pass the dark, smoking candles. I don't know how I can tell this—everything is pitch-black. But I feel it. I can sense the rushing thing like an inkier blackness. It explodes pass me, blowing my hair straight up and to the side. I throw out an arm to protect my face, but by that time it's gone.

There is a faint cry in the darkness.

Then everything is quiet again.

"Turn on the lights," somebody gasps.

Suddenly I can see. Marvel is standing by the light switch. Annie is standing too, her face white and frightened. Around the circle every face reflects alarm and consternation—except Gale's. His is impassive as usual.

Clove is just sitting up. She looks as if she'd been blown backward by some tremendous force. Fury blazing in her eyes, she turns on Cato. "You pushed me!"

"No, I didn't!" Cato looks around the room for help. "She was trying to get to the skull! She was lunging for it!"

"You lying little worm! You were trying to get away. You were going to break the circle."

"She—"

"No, I didn't!"

"All right!" shouts Annie.

Finnick comes up beside her. "It doesn't matter who did what," he says, his voice tense. "What matters is that—energy—that escaped."

"What energy?" Clove says sullenly, examining her elbow for bruises.

"The energy that knocked you flat on your back," Annie says grimly.

"I fell. Because this little snot pushed me."

"No," I say before I can stop myself. I'm beginning to shake in delay reaction. "I felt it too. Something came out."

"Oh, you felt it. The expert." Clove gives me a glance of scorn and disdain. I look around at the others, who are still sitting, and I'm surprised to see uncertainty in their expressions. Surely they had felt it too?

"I felt something," Madge says. "Something dark inside the skull. Some negative energy."

"Whatever it was, it was released when we broke the circle," Peeta says. He looks at Annie. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have let this happen."

"You mean you should have kept the skull a secret from the rest of us," Clove says sharply. "For your own personal use."

"What difference does it make?" Prim cries from the other side of the circle. "If something was released from the skull, it's out there right now. Doing God knows what."

"We've got to stop it," Madge says.

Glimmer is fiddling with a button on her blouse. "How?"

This silence is long and uncomfortable. Finnick and Annie are looking at each other, seeming to have some grim unspoken conversation. The Henderson brothers are also telegraphing something to each other, but they don't look as if they mind having something murderous and evil loose in the immediate community. In fact, on the whole they look pleased.

"Maybe it'll get whoever got Bonnie," Marvel offers at last.

Annie stares at him. "Is that what you think?" Then her face changes. "Is that what you were thinking when we were reaching into it? Is that what you were willing?"

"We were supposed to just try and read the last imprints," Madge says, her voice as angry as I had ever heard it.

The Henderson brothers look at each other and shrugged. Johanna's expression is somewhere between a scowl and a grin. Suzan is still fiddling. Gale, face expressionless, stands up.

"Looks like that's all for tonight," he said.

Annie explodes.

"You're damn right it is!" she cries, astounding me. She snatches up the skull in her two hands. "Now this is going to a safe place, where it belongs. Where it should have gone in the first place. I should have known you were all too irresponsible to deal with it." Hugging the skull to her, she walks out of the garage.

Clove is instantly alert, like a cat that sees the flicker of a mouse's tail. "I don't think that was a very nice way to talk to us," she says throatily. "I don't think she trusts us, do you? Hands up, how many people here want to be led by someone who doesn't trust them?"

If looks could kill. The one Madge throw Clove would have left her a basket case. "Oh, get stuffed, Clove," she says in her classy accent. "Come on, Prim," she stands up. "Katniss," she adds, and goes to follow Annie towards the house.

I instantly get up and follow them.

Annie is putting the skull back in the Pyrex dish when Finnick comes in behind me. He goes to Annie and put his arms around her. She leans against him a moment, eyes shut, but doesn't hold him in return. And after that moment she moves away, but takes his hand in hers.

"I'm all right. I'm just angry with them, and I've got to think." Annie and Finnick sit on the bed.

Peeta sits on the desk chair, running a hand through his hair. "I should have kept it a secret from them," he says. "It was my own stupid pride—"

"Don't," says Finnick. "It would have been wrong to keep something from the Circle that belongs to them."

"More wrong than to let them use it for stupid, malicious reasons?"

Annie turns away and leans on Finnick, so her head id resting on his lap.

"Sometimes," Finnick says quietly, "I wonder about what we're doing. Maybe the Old Powers should just be left asleep. Maybe we're wrong to think we can handle them."

"Power is only Power," Annie says tiredly, not turning. "It's not good or bad. Only the way we use it is good or bad."

"But maybe nobody can use it without ending up using it badly."

I stay in the same spot, next to Prim and listened, wishing I were anywhere else. I'm aware that in some terribly civilized way, Annie and Finnick are having a fight. I met Prim's eyes and see that the other girl is just as uncomfortable.

"I don't believe that," Annie says finally, softly. "I don't believe that people are that hopeless. That evil."

Finnick's expression is bleak and longing, as if he wished he could share her belief. Annie immediately turns around. "Are you all right? You're white as a ghost." She asked to the three of us.

Madge nods and shrugs. "Yeah, probably just a little dizzy."

The anger slowly, drains out of Annie's eyes. "Katniss, you look tired, maybe you should head home." I'm grateful with Annie right now. There is so much to take in. So many things happened today, maybe Annie knows and wants me to rest and process everything.

"We'll stay with you," Prim says, gesturing to Madge and her. "It'll be better to start to purify this skull properly, with flower essences and other crystals." She looks at Madge.

"We don't care if it takes all night; but I want to get it set up. We'll have to start now. This minute." Madge says.

Annie nods. "All right. Katniss I don't want you out there by yourself. Peeta will you walk her back? The beach way is faster." I open my mouth in horror, but Peeta nods quickly. "Sure." He says.

Oh crap.

I say good-bye to Prim, Madge, Annie and Finnick. Then I walk out of the room with Peeta following me. The walk is silent, I don't say anything and neither does Peeta; well he looks like if he wants to say something, but he doesn't. Good. Somehow Glimmer gets in our way and asks us to walk her home as well; she looks so tired that I'm surprised that she's still on her feet. We agree and walk her home, Number three.

Once she goes in to her house, she gives a slight wave and says a small "Good, night," then she closes the door.

On the way to my house I watch him slightly from the corner of my eye; and he's looking directly at me, I pretend to admire the landscape. But as the odds aren't in my favor, he catches me while I turn accidentally and smiles at me; and I hate myself once again I feel butterflies in my stomach and my cheeks burn.

Damn.

He chuckles slightly, and keeps walking. I'll definitely avoid any contact with him for the rest of the walk. When we are getting close to my house our hands touch; but he doesn't move it; instead I move it first and keep walking. He sighs; it may be my imagination, but he sounded… disappointed?

I ignore the thought.

Finally we are at my house. I turn to him for courtesy, he smiles. "Well… hum… thanks." I stammer, what is wrong with me?

He smiles even more, if that's possible. "Any time," he says. The wind starts to blow and moves my braid somehow that a piece of hair falls on my face. I feel like my heart it's going to jump from my chest when he reaches out a hand and takes the hair away from my face and pulls it behind my ear; but his hand doesn't leave my face instead he caresses my cheek with his thumb; and this gesture sets me on fire.

"Thanks," I say again, but it was more like a whisper, a really weak one that I'm surprised that he even heard it. His beautiful blue eyes are looking deeply into my grey ones. I didn't realize till now that his face is only a few inches away from mine.

"You're welcome." I feel his hot breath on my face, and it makes my body warm completely, from the tips of my feet fingers to my head. We stay like that for a moment, and I feel like a déjà vu. The two of us standing close; and it's like if I can see the same silver cord that I saw on the beach.

His face it's starting to get closer to mine, and I feel his lips on mine.

His lips feel warm and gentle on my own. This is the first time that I ever kissed a boy. But I don't pull away, instead I kiss him back; this takes him by surprise but he quickly recovers and wraps his arms around my waist, I do the same on his neck.

I feel safe and warm, like if this is where I belong. Just the two of us, it's… perfect. We stay like that for a moment then we pull away at the same time, the both of us reaching for air. Then he rests his forehead against mine and I look into his eyes. He grins; and I can't help but smile back.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to do that," he whispers.

I can't stop the words that come out of my mouth. "I think I do." And it's true, now I realize that ever since I met him, I can't get him out of my mind. He pulls me closer.

"You're the only thing that it's been on my mind since I meet you," he says. "I just… I just can't get you out of my mind, not that I want to, I feel happy when I'm with you." He kisses the tip of my nose. "I know it's crazy I mean we haven't talked each other since your initiation; damn, we didn't do it even; only since the day on the beach."

He's right, but still I feel like if I've known him from years, hell, I feel like I've known him from my whole life. I just want to be with him. I don't know what to say so I do the first thing that comes to my mind; I press my lips to his.

This kiss is different from the first one, it's more desperate and with more passion. It's like some hunger but a different one, every kiss instead of calm, it makes me want more. I run my hands through his curls; and he does the same on my back, he moves his hands from my waist to my back, and again; finally they settle on my hips.

I feel his tongue touch my lip, asking for an entrance, I open my mouth. It feels amazing the feeling of his tongue with mine. I could keep like this forever, but we both pull away with are breaths heavy. I close my eyes and rest my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat; he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer, like that was possible, and rests his head on the top of mine.

I feel him kiss my hair. I feel more relaxed than ever. I take a breath, and smell his shirt, it smells like him; a combination of cinnamon and mint. I like it.

"What are we going to do?" I say, breaking the silence.

"What do you mean?" Peeta asks.

"I mean, what are we?" I raise my head so I can look at him.

"I don't know," he says and strokes my cheek. "Are we going to tell the others?"

Tell the others. I don't know what to say. Why would we keep it as a secret? There is nothing wrong with it. But then I understand why he's telling me this. What if it doesn't work? What if someone of the circle gets hurt, I'm part of them now. Maybe keep it as a secret could be a good idea, not telling anyone till we even know each other what we are? Sounds good to me.

"What do you suggest?" I say while a move his blond hair from his face.

"It's just that it's too soon, and we don't even know where we are standing." He says.

"So we keep it as a secret?"

"Only if you want to give it a try," I know what he means; give it a try to us. To the possibility of being together. I ask myself that, and my body screams, yes!

So I let the word out. "Okay."

He grins, he looks so happy. He hugs me tightly and kisses my forehead. I smile at him. "I can't believe this is happening." He whispers, and then he kisses me.

I smile in the kiss. I can't help it, I way happier that I've been since I move to New Salem. I'm disappointed when he pulls away, but his eyes are lighter than ever, full of happiness and joy. I chuckle. I'm happy to see him happy.

"I think it's better for me to go," He says. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course," I tell him. We say good-bye and he kisses me one more time, he turns and heads to his house. I happily close the door and go to my room, carefully, trying not to wake anybody.

Once in my room I sigh happily, and prepare for bed. What was this boy doing to me? I've only talked to him like five times in my life but I feel attracted to him; he's handsome, yes, but I feel connected with him; not like I'm connected with the circle, but more deep…

I try to sleep, and I go to the most peaceful dream ever.

Line break… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

When I wake up, I'm still smiling like an idiot, but I don't care. I keep thinking about yesterday and it only makes me smile even more. I remember the kisses that we shared, the slight touches…

I don't want to move. I'm smiling so much that you'll think it may hurt but it doesn't, I guess that when you have a reason to smile it doesn't hurt much or maybe is that I've smiled way too much that I can't feel nothing on my face. Yeah I think it's the last one…

I sigh and get up. After I take a bath and get dressed. Then go downstairs and start to eat breakfast. My mother breaks the silence.

"Why are you smiling so much, you haven't smiled like that in years."

"No reason," I say but I'm a terrible liar, my mother knows that, she is too. Fortunately she drops the subject. I start to make my bed and I find under the pillow the chalcedony rock.

I smile and pick it up. I can't believe that the voices in my head actually were right. I take the small piece and put it in my pocket. I hear my telephone make a noise and I know that I've got a new message. I'm confused when it reads unknown, but I only smile when I see it's from Peeta, saying that he's waiting for me on the same spot that it was my initiation, I quickly grab my keys and head to the woods.

On the way I relax even more. It's not till I get to the place that I see him sitting on the sand that I feel my heart speed up. When he sees me he smiles and walks were I am. He wraps he's arms around my waist and kisses my cheek. We seat on the sand and talk about random things.

"What's your favorite color?" he asks me.

"Seriously?" I say. He nods his head.

"Green. What's yours?"

"Orange," he says.

"Orange?" I ask thinking of the bright color.

"Yes, not bright, more muted, more like… sunset." I can see why he likes it so much, the different shades of color. "What do you like to do on your free time?"

"I used to hunt," I say.

"Really?" he seems shocked with my answer, but then he smiles. "I like to paint."

Now it's my turn to smile. "I'd like to see some time."

"I think you had," he sees my confusion and smiles. "Have you see the paints of goddess on Annie's room?"

I nod, and then I understand. "You made those?" I ask, and he nods. "They are amazing."

"Thank you." He says and takes my hand in his. We spend the next two hours like that; I discover that he also bakes.

"I don't take sugar on my tea." He says.

"What do you have against sugar?" I ask mockingly.

"It's just that it kills the taste of the tea."

"Is there another weird stuff that I need to know?" I tease.

"That depends, why do you need it?" He winks. I raise my eyebrows.

"Seriously?"

He laughs. "Okay, fine. Well I sleep with my windows open and I make a double knot to my shoes. Happy?"

"Wow. You are seriously even crazier than I am." I laugh.

"Really?" He begins to tickle me. I laugh even harder.

"Okay, fine I give up." He smiles and lets me go.

About around three o'clock we start to go, he kisses me good-bye.

"See you at school." He says.

I smile and wave.

Once in my room I close the door and sigh. I can't wait till tomorrow.

**I know it was short but I've had a lot of homework. What do you think about this chapter? Please update, help me to get 30 reviews, if you do that the next chapter will be longer! Please update!**

**Lots of love,**

**Mar**


	8. Chapter Eight

**Hey everyone! Finally Friday! Well thanks for keep supporting my story! This chapter happens right after the last one, I think you guys may like it. I know that you want the circle to know about Katniss and Peeta but I have everything planed. I promise. I think that's it. Please review!**

**Chapter Eight**

I'm still thinking about today when I got a text from Annie saying that I should go to her house immediately. I sigh and get out of my house for second time today. The big white house looks as pretty as ever. The sunlight makes it look like if it had a sparkle. A girl with long light-blond hair calls from the porch.

"Hurry up, Katniss! You're late!"

"Sorry," I call back. But Prim only walks to me and grabs me by the wrist and pulls me to the house, then to Annie's room. Once inside, Prim makes me sit on the bed, and she takes the other side. Annie is sitting on her desk with Finnick next to her on another chair. Madge is sitting on the window seat. And Peeta is standing by the door.

Our eyes meet for a moment but we both look down, even though I'm blushing a little and smiling slightly. We know that we have to keep it as a secret for a moment, so we have to act like nothing happen.

Fortunately, nobody notices it.

"Good; we're all here," Annie says. "Peeta."

Peeta closes the door and takes a seat on a chair next to the bed. Annie continues, "This is a closed meeting, the others weren't invited because I'm not sure they have the same interests at heart as we do."

"They're going to be upset if they find out," says Finnick.

"Then let them be," Madge says unemotionally. Her cool blue eyes looking at Finnick. "This is much more important than any fit Clove can throw. We have to find out what happened to that dark energy… and now."

"I think I know a way," says Annie. Out of a white velvet pouch she takes a delicate green stone on a silver chain.

"A pendulum," Madge says at once.

"Yes. This is peridot," Annie says to me. "It's a visionary stone—right, Madge?" Madge nods. "Usually we use clear quartz as a pendulum, but this time I think the peridot is better—more likely to pick up traces of the dark energy. We'll take it down to the place where the dark energy escaped, and it'll align itself in the direction the energy went and start swinging."

"We hope," Prim murmurs.

"Well, that's the theory," Madge says.

Annie looks at Peeta, who's been unusually quiet. "What do you think?"

"I think it's worth a try. It'll take a lot of mental power to back it up, though. We'll all have to concentrate —especially since we're not a full Circle." His voice is calm and even.

Annie turns to me. "What about you?"

"Me?" I say surprised. I hadn't expect to be asked; I don't know anything about pendulums or peridot. To my horror, I feel my face redden.

"Yes, you. You might be new to the methods we use, but a lot of the time you have feelings about things."

"Oh. Well…" I try to look for a feeling, anything. "I think… it's a good idea." It sounded more like a question than a statement.

Madge rolls her eyes; and Prim is biting her lip trying not to laugh, and I can't blame her. But Annie only nods as seriously as she did with Peeta. "All right, then, the only thing to do is try," she said, dropping the peridot and its silver chain into the palm of her left hand and clasping it tightly. "Let's go."

Everyone haves gone up and so did I, when the door opens.

Clove is standing in the doorway.

Glimmer and Johanna are behind her. The strawberry blonde looks mean, and the biker's habitual scowl is even darker than usual. Behind them are the Henderson brothers, Marvel frowning and Cato grinning in a wild way that is disturbing.

"Going somewhere without us?" Clove asks to no one in particular.

"Not now," Prim mutters.

Annie lets out a deep breath. "I didn't think you'd be interested," she says. "We're going to trace the dark energy."

"Not interested?. When all the rest of you are so busy? Of course, I can only speak for myself, but I'm interested in everything the Circle does. What about you, Johanna?"

The biker girl's scowl changes briefly into a malicious grin. "I'm interested," she says.

"And what about you, Glimmer?"

"I'm interested," Glimmer chimes in.

"And what about you, Marvel?"

"I'm—"

"All right," Diana says. Her cheeks are flushed; Finnick comes to stand at her side. "We get the point. We're better off with a full Circle, anyway—but where's Gale?"

"I have no idea," Clove says coolly. "He's not at home."

Annie hesitates, and then shrugs. "We'll do our best with what we have," she says. "Let's go down to the garage."

She gestures at Madge and Prim and they go first, elbowing past Clove's group, who looks as if they want to stay and argue some more. Then the Hendersons go out, then Peeta does. Johanna and Glimmer look at Clove and then follow the guys. Finnick touches my shoulder, gesturing me to go, and we go out the door.

On the way down I hear something, really weak.

"Annie," That's definitely Clove. "You're going to lose them all," Then she chuckled her lazy chuckle. Once down stairs, I see everyone going out. I follow them.

I see them gather in Annie's driveway, their heads gleaming in the first rays of sunset: Glimmer's strawberry-blond hair turned to red, Johanna's dark curls touched with ruby, Laurel's long, light-blond hair and Madge's dark-blond straight hair and the Henderson brothers' yellow all highlighted by the ruddy glow in the sky.

And then I see Finnick and Annie, standing close, Annie's shiny head drooping to Finnick's shoulder. He is holding her protectively, his own hair dark as wine. Then I see Peeta's golden curls and Clove's gloom of hair.

Once in the garage, I notice that there are only traces of yesterday's chalk circle left on the floor. Once again the garage is empty of cars—we are lucky Annie's father works so much at his law firm. Annie, her left fist still closed, goes over to the wall of the garage, directly behind the place I had been sitting when we had performed the skull ceremony. I follow her and then draw in my breath sharply.

"It's burned." I hadn't noticed that last night. Well, of course not; it had been too dark.

Annie is nodding. "I hope nobody is going to keep arguing about whether there was any dark energy or not," she says, with a glance back at Johanna and Glimmer.

The wood and plaster of the garage wall is charred in a circle perhaps a foot and a half in diameter. I look at it, and then at the remnants of the chalk circle on the floor. I had been sitting there, but part of me had been inside the skull. Annie had told them all to look into it, to concentrate, and suddenly I had found myself inside it. That is where I'd seen, felt, the dark power. It had begun rushing outward, getting bigger, determined to break out of the crystal. And I'd seen a face…

I'm grateful, suddenly, for Peeta's calm voice.

"Well, we know what direction it started in, anyway. Let's see if the crystal agrees."

We are all standing around Annie. She looks at us, then holds her left fist out, palm up, and unclasps the fingers. She takes the top of the silver chain with her right hand and drew it up taut, so that the peridot just rests on her palm.

"Concentrate," she says. "Earth and Air, help us see what we need to see. Show the traces of the dark energy to us. Everybody concentrate on the crystal."

'_Earth and Air, wind and tree, show us what we need to see,'_ I think, my mind automatically setting the simple concept in a rhyme. The wood of the wall, the air outside; that is what we need to help them. I found myself murmuring the words under my breath and quickly stop, but Annie's green eyes flash at me.

"Go on," Annie says tensely, in a low voice, and I start up again, feeling self-conscious.

Annie removes the hand that is supporting the crystal.

It spins on the chain, twirling until the chain is kinked tightly, and then twirling the other way. I watch the pale green blur, murmuring the couplet faster and faster. Earth and Air… no, it's useless. The peridot is just spinning madly like a top gone wild. Suddenly, with broad, sweeping strokes, the crystal begins swinging back and forth.

Someone's breathe hisses on the other side of the circle.

The peridot haves straightened out; it's no longer twirling, but swinging steadily and hard. Like a pendulum, I realize. Annie isn't doing it—her left hand holding the chain remains steady. But the peridot is swinging hard, back toward the center of the chalk circle on the floor, and forward toward the burned place on the wall.

"Bingo," Finnick says softly.

"We've got it," Madge whispers. "All right, now you're going to have to move it out of alignment to get outside. Walk carefully, to the door, and then try to come back to this exact place on the other side of the wall."

Annie wet her lips and nods, then, holding the silver chain always at the same distance from her body, she turns smoothly and does as Madge said. Our circle broke up to give her room and we regrouped around her outside. Finding the right place isn't hard; there is another circle burned on the outer wall, somewhat fainter than the one inside.

As Annie brought the crystal into alignment once more, it begins to swing again. Straight toward the burned place, straight out. Down Crowhaven Road, toward the town.

A shudder goes up to my spine.

Everyone look at everyone else.

Holding the crystal away from her, Annie follows the direction of the swinging. We all go in behind her, although I notice Clove's group kept to the rear. I'm still fighting every second to not watch Peeta.

Trees rustled overhead. Red maple, beech, slippery elm—I can identify many of them. But I try to keep my eyes on the rapid swish of the pendulum.

We walked and walked, following the curve of Crowhaven Road down towards the water. Now grasses and hedges grew poorly in the sandy soil. The pale green stone is swinging at an angle and Annie turns to follow it.

We are heading west now, along a deeply rutted dirt road. I've never been this way before, but the other members of the Circle obviously have, they are exchanging guarded glances. I see a chain-link fence ahead, and then an irregular line of headstones.

"Oh, great," Prim mutters from my side, and from somewhere in back Glimmer says, "I don't believe this. First we have to walk for miles and now…"

"What's the problem? Just going to visit some of our ancestors underground," Cato says, his blue-green eyes glittering oddly.

"Shut up," Peeta says.

I don't want to go inside. I've seen many cemeteries in New England, it seems there is one on every other street in Massachusetts, and I've been to Bonnie's funeral down in the town. This one don't look any different from the others: it's a small, square plot of land cluttered with modest gravestones, many of them worn almost completely smooth with time. But I can hardly make myself follow the others onto the sparse, browning grass between the graves.

Annie led us straight down the middle of the cemetery. Most of the stones are small, scarcely reaching higher than my knees. They are shaped like arches with two smaller arches on either side.

"Whoever carved these had a gruesome sense of humor," I breathe. Many of the stones are etched with crude skulls, some of them winged, others in front of crossbones. One haves an entire skeleton, holding a sun and moon in its hands.

"Death's victory," Clove says softly, so close that I feel warmth on the nape of my neck. I jump, but refuse to look back.

"Oh, terrific," says Prim as Annie slows.

The light is dying from the sky. We are in the center of the graveyard, and a cool breeze blow over the stunted grass, bringing a faint tang of salt with it. The hairs on the back of my neck are tingling. You're a witch, I remind myself. You should love cemeteries. They're probably your natural habitat.

The thought doesn't really make me feel less frightened, but now my fear is mingled with something else, a sort of strange excitement. The darkness gathering in the sky and in the corners of the graveyard seems closer. I'm part of it, part of a whole new world of shadows and power.

Annie stops.

The silver chain is a thin line in the gloom, with a pale blob below it. But I can see that the peridot is no longer swinging like a pendulum. Instead it's moving erratically, round and round in circles. It would swing around a few times one way, then slow and swing back the other way.

I look at it, and then up at Annie's face. Annie is frowning. Everyone is watching the circling stone in dead silence. And suddenly I can't stand the suspense any longer. "What does it mean?" I hiss to Prim, who just shakes her head. Annie, though, looks up.

"Something's wrong with it. It led here—and then it just stopped. But if we've found the place, it shouldn't be moving at all. The stone should just sort of point and quiver—right, Madge?"

"Like a good hound dog," Cato says, with his wild grin.

Madge ignores him. "That's the theory," she says. "But we've never really tried this before. Maybe it means…" Her voice trails off as she looks around the graveyard; and then she shrugs. "I don't know what it means."

The tingling at the back of my neck is getting stronger. The dark energy had come here—and done what? Disappeared? Dissipated? Or…

Prim is breathing quickly, her elfin face unusually tense. I instinctively moved a little closer to her. Prim and I are the youngest members of the Circle, and witch or not, my arms have broken out in gooseflesh.

"What if it's still here, somewhere… waiting?" I say.

"I doubt it," Madge says, her voice as level and uninflected as usual. "It couldn't hang around without being stored somehow; it would just evaporate. It either came here and did something, or—" Again, though, she can only finish her sentence with a shrug. It doesn't help.

"But what could it do here? I don't see any signs of damage, and I feel…" Still frowning, Annie caught the circling peridot in her left hand and held it. "This place feels confused—strange—but I don't sense any harm the dark energy has done. Katniss?"

I try to search my own feelings. Confusion as Annie said. And I feel dread and anger and all sorts of churned-up emotions—but maybe that's just me. I'm in no state to get a clear reading on anything.

"I don't know," I have to say to Annie. "I don't like it here."

"Maybe, but that's not the point. The point is that we don't see any burns the dark energy could have left, or sense anything it's destroyed or hurt," Annie says.

Johanna's voice is impatient. "Why are you asking her, anyway?" she says with a jerk of her dark head towards me. "She's hardly even one of us—"

"Katniss belongs to the Circle just as much as you do," Peeta interrupts, unusually curt. I see the arch, amused glance Clove throws him and wants to intervene, but Annie is agreeing heatedly with Peeta and Johanna is bridling, glaring at both of them. It looks as if an argument would break out.

"Be quiet!" Prim says sharply. "Listen!"

I hear it as soon as the voices died down; the quiet crunch of gravel at the roadside. It's noticeable only against the deathly quiet of the autumn twilight.

"Somebody's coming," Marvel says. He and Cato are poised for a fight.

They are all hideously on edge, I realize. The crunch of footsteps sounds as loud as firecrackers now, grating against my taut nerves. I see a dim shape beside the road, and then see Peeta move forward, so that he is in front of me on a protective way. Talking about being discreet. I'm going to have to talk to him about that.

There is a pause in the footsteps, and the dim shape comes towards us. Peeta and the Henderson brothers look ready to rush it. Actually Johanna looks ready too. Finnick is covering Annie. My heart begins to pound.

Then I notice a spot of red like a tiny burning coal floating near the figure, and I hear a familiar voice. "If you want me, you got me. Four against one ought to be about fair."

With a whoop, Marvel rushes forward. "Gale!"

Cato grins, while managing to look as if he might still jump the approaching figure. Peeta relaxes and steps back, next to me.

"Are you sure, Peeta? We can settle this right here," Gale says as he reaches the group, the end of his cigarette glowing as he inhales. Peeta's eyes narrow, and then I see the daredevil smile he'd worn at Cape Cod when a bunch of guys with a gun had been chasing him. What is wrong with him, what's wrong with everybody tonight? I wonder. They're all acting crazy.

Prim puts a restraining hand on Peeta's arm. "No fighting," she says quietly.

Gale looks at her, and then shrugs.

"Was it necessarily that came in here like that?" Glimmer says, it was obviously that she was so nervous a few moments ago.

"Well, maybe you have a reason to be nervous… at least some of you," he says.

"What's that supposed to mean? We came here looking for the dark energy that escaped last night," says Peeta.

Gale goes still, as if struck by a new idea, then his cigarette glows again. "Maybe you're looking in the wrong place," he says expressionlessly.

Annie's voice is quiet. "Gale, will you please just tell us what you mean?"

Gale looks around at us. "I mean," he says deliberately, "that while you've been scurrying around here, a crew's been up at Devil's Cove pulling rocks off old Snow."

Snow? I can't place the name. And then suddenly I see it in my mind's eye, on a brass plate in a wood-paneled office. "Our principal?" I ask.

"You got it. They say he got caught in an avalanche."

"An avalanche?" demands Prim in disbelief. "Around here?"

"How else do you explain the two-ton chunk of granite that was on top of him? Not to mention all the smaller stuff."

There is a moment of shocked silence.

"Is he – " He doesn't let me finish the question.

"He wasn't looking so well when they got that chunk off him," Gale says, and then, with less sarcasm, "He's been dead since last night."

"Oh, God," Prim whispers. There is another silence, just as shocked and even longer this time. I know we are all seeing the same thing: A crystal skull surrounded by a protective ring of candles—and one of the candles going out.

"It was Clove's fault," Cato begins in a whine, but Clove interrupts without looking at him. "It was his fault."

"Wait, wait," says Annie. "We don't know the dark energy had anything to do with it. How could it have, when we know it came here and then stopped?"

"I don't think that's much comfort," Madge says in a low voice. "Because if it wasn't the dark energy, who was it?"

There is a sort of strange shifting in the group, as if everyone is standing back and looking at all the others. I feel a void in the pit of my stomach again. The principal is—had been—an outsider, who hated witches. And that meant they all had a motive—especially anybody who blamed the outsiders for Bonnie Henderson's death. I look at Johanna, and then at Marvel and Cato. Most of the rest of the coven are doing the same. Cato glares back, then gives a wild, defiant grin.

"Maybe we did do it," he says, eyes glittering.

"Did we?" says Marvel, looking confused.

Johanna just looks scornful. There is another silence, then Glimmer speaks in a petulant voice. "Look, it's too bad about Snow, but do we have to stand here forever? My feet are killing me."

Finnick seems to shake himself. "She's right; we should get out of this place. There's nothing we can do here." He puts an arm around Annie, and gestured everybody else ahead.

With the Henderson brothers in the lead, the group is taking a different route than the one we had taken in, cutting towards the northeast corner of the cemetery. As we approached the road, I notice the ground is rising. There is a strange mound of grassy earth near the chain-link fence on this side; I almost trip when I reach it. But even stranger is what I see when we have passed it and I look back.

The front of the mound is faced with stone slabs, and there is an iron door, maybe two feet square, set between them. The door haves an iron hinge and a padlock on it, but it couldn't have opened anyway. Pushed right up against it's a large, irregular hunk of cement. Grass is growing up around the cement, showing it have been there a while.

My hands are icy cold, my heart is thudding, and I'm dizzy. I try to think, noticing with only part of my mind that I'm passing by newer gravestones now, marble slabs with writing not worn smooth by time. I'm trying to figure out what is wrong with me—is it just reaction to all the events of the past day and night? Was that why I'm shaking?

"Katniss, are you okay?" Annie and Peeta have turn around.

"Yeah. I just—felt weird for a minute. But wait, Annie." I remember what I've wanted to say. "You know how you were asking me about my feelings before… well, I have a feeling about Mr. Snow. The dark energy had something to do with it, I'm almost sure. But…" I stop. "But I don't know. There's something strange going on."

"You can say that again," Peeta says, and he reaches for my arm to get me moving once more.

I evade him and shot him a reproachful glance while Annie is looking into the distance. He nods, but I feel terrible because of the look of hurt on his face; I'm going to talk to him.

'_There is something strange going on, something stranger than any of them realize,' _I think. "What is that thing back there, with the iron door?" I ask.

"It's been there for as long as I can remember," Annie says absently. "Something to do with storage, I think."

I glance back, but by now the mound is lost in darkness. I hug myself, tucking my hands under my clasping arms to warm them. My heart is still thudding.

I'll ask Grandma Howard about it, I decide. Whatever it is, it isn't a storage shed.

Then I notice that Annie is toying with something around her neck as she walks, lost in thought. It's a fine golden chain, and at the end of it dangled a key. Does is that the key that keep the skull lock?

I keep walking.

Finally we reach Annie's house and we go to her room.

"I think," Madge says quietly, "that it's time to talk about the skull. Peeta's never told us exactly how he found it-"

"No, you've been very secretive about that," Clove puts in.

"-but maybe now is the time."

Peeta looks at Annie, as if asking for permission, and then Annie nods slightly. "All right, then, tell it. Try not to leave anything out."

I look around at the group and realize that it's divided. Glimmer, Johanna, and the Henderson brothers are sitting on one side, near Clove, while Prim, Madge, Peeta, and Finnick are on the other side, near Annie. At least we are on Annie's side. But Gale could vote with Annie one day, and then for no apparent reason vote with Clove the next. Gale is always an unknown factor.

It's more than obvious that who could win the leader-ship vote.

My thoughts are distracted because Peeta is talking in a low, thoughtful voice, as if he is trying to remember precisely. "It wasn't off Cape Cod, it was farther north, closer to Boston. Everybody knows there are seventeen islands off Boston Bay; they're all deserted and covered with weeds. Well, I found an eighteenth. It wasn't like the others; it was flat and sandy and there was no sign that people had ever been there. And there was something strange about it. ... I'd been to the place before, but I'd never seen it. It was as if my eyes had suddenly been opened after," he looks at me. Everyone nods, knowing what he means.

I saved him.

"But when I tried to head for the island, the tiller bucked, trying to keep me away or run me aground on the rocks. I had to wrestle with it to bring the boat in-and I had to call on Earth and Water or I'd never have made it. When I was finally safe I looked at the rocks and saw the wreckage of other boats. Anybody that had made it there before didn't make it away again alive.

"As soon as I stepped on the sand I could feel that the whole island was electric. I knew it was the place even before I saw the circle of stones in the middle. It was just the way Black John described it. Sea heather had grown up around the rocks, but the center was clear and that's where I dug. About a minute later my shovel hit something hard."

"And then?" says Madge.

"And then I pulled it out. I felt-I don't know, dizzy, when I saw it. The sun was glittering on the sand and it sort of blinded me. Then I wrapped the skull up in my shirt and left. The island didn't fight when I went; it was like a trap that had been sprung. That was- let's see, September twenty-first. As soon as I got back to the Bay, I wanted to start up to New Salem, but I had some things to take care of. I couldn't get started until the next day, and I knew I was going to be late for Bonnie's initiation." He pauses and throws an apologetic glance toward Cato and Marvel.

They say nothing, but I feel eyes flicker towards me. Bonnie's initiation had become my initiation, because on that morning I'd found her dead at the bottom of the high-school steps.

"Just what is the point of all this storytelling?" Clove asks, her husky voice bored. "Unless"-she straightens up, looking more interested-"you think the rest of the Master Tools may be on that island."

"I told you before," Peeta says. "There was nothing else there, Clove. Just the skull."

"And the point is that we need to know more about the skull," Annie puts in. "For better or worse, we're stuck with it now. I don't think we should put it back on the island-"

"Put it back!" Clove exclaims.

"-where anybody might find it, now that the protective spell is broken. It's not safe there. I don't know if it will be safe anywhere."

"Well, now," Clove murmurs, looking sleepy. "If it's too much trouble for you, I'll be glad to take care of it."

Annie just shot her a look that says Clove is the last person she'd ask to take care of the skull. But, I notice with a sinking feeling, Clove's heavy-lidded amber eyes are not fixed on Annie's face. They are trained on the little gold key at Annie's throat.

There is a knock at the door. But it's only Annie's father, who just got home with a bulging briefcase in his hand. "Is everyone staying for dinner?" he asks Annie.

"Oh-no," Annie says, looking at a dainty white and gold clock on the nightstand. "I didn't realize it was after seven, Dad. I'll fix something quick."

He nods, and after one quicker, uncertain glance around the room, left.

"Tomorrow we can meet at school," Madge says. "But I've got to study tonight; this whole last week has been shot and Prim and I have a biology test and we're going to study."

"Yeah," says Prim. "It's going to be a big night."

"All right, we'll meet tomorrow," Annie says. She walks downstairs with us. All of them have their cars or they have persons to take them home, so Annie speaks. "Peeta can you walk Katniss home again?"

"Sure," he says. Looks like I get my chance to talk to him. The walk is silence, but it's not like the first one; right now I don't care if I catch his eyes, or the feeling of him being too close to me. Instead I'm happy when he takes his hand on mine.

When we reach my house, we stop at the doorway; I turn to him to find him already looking at me.

"Thanks," I say. He smiles and takes a step closer to me. I blurt out what I been thinking. "I'm sorry about what happened on the way to Annie's house, but you need to be more careful with your actions, they may notice it."

He sighs, "I know." He puts his arms around my waist; I rest my hands on his chest. "I can't help it."

I shake my head slightly with a smile on my face, what is this boy doing to me?

Before I can think of anything else, he kisses me. I quickly kiss him back. It's weird that this is already becoming natural to me, it's just it feels right. Like being with him it's where I belong. But what's more scary it's that I don't care, I'm more than happy with it.

When we pull away he rests his forehead against mine and closes his eyes; I do the same. "I don't want to leave you," He whispers. "I wish I could freeze this moment right here, right now, and live in it forever."

I smile and rest my head on his chest. "Okay."

I can hear his smile when he speaks. "So you'll allow it?"

"I'll allow it."

**Aawww! Go Everlark! I love Peeta who else does it? Please review! I want to know what you think! Next chapter is the Homecoming! So keep reading.**

**Lots of love,**

**Mar**


	9. Chapter Nine

**Hey everyone! Sorry I couldn't update yesterday! I've been busy, anyway, this chapter is shorter, I know but the next one it'll be longer. This one is the preparations of the homecoming, the next one is the Prom! Please review!**

**Chapter Nine**

We have a minute of silence at the beginning of class for Mr. Snow. I spend the minute staring at my entwined fingers; I can't help but think of the dark rushing thing inside the skull and Cato's tip-tilted blue-green eyes.

Once at lunch I found a note taped on the glass door of the back room in the cafeteria. _Outside in front_, it says. I turn from it and almost run into Peeta. He's approaching with a loaded tray, and he lifts it to stop me from knocking it all over him.

"Whoa," he says. "Sorry."

When he sees it's me, he smiles. I smile sheepishly. We stand like that, staring each other. Eyes in the cafeteria are on us. Talking about déjà vu, every time I'm in here I'm the center of attention. Finally, Peeta makes an abortive attempt to catch my elbow, stops himself, and gestures me forward courteously. I don't know how he does it, but Peeta manages to carry off courtesy like no guy I've ever known. It seems to come naturally to him.

Girls look up as we go by, some of them casting sideways glances at Peeta. But these are different than the sideways glances I had seen on the beach at Cape Cod. There, he'd been dressed in his scruffy fishing-boat clothes, and Cashmere's girlfriends had averted their eyes in disdain. These glances are shy, or inviting, or hopeful. Peeta just tosses an unruly strand of blond hair off his forehead and smiles at them.

I feel anger raising me. And I hate myself for it. I've never been jealous and possessive type of girl.

Outside, the members of the Club are gathered on the steps. Even Gale is there. I start toward them, and then a large shape bounds up and plants its front feet on my shoulders.

"Raj, get down! What are you doing?" Peeta yells.

A wet, warm tongue is lapping my face. I try to pull the dog off, grabbing for the fur at the back of his neck, and end it by hugging him.

"I think he's just saying 'hi,' " I laugh.

"He's usually so good about waiting just off campus until I get out of school. I don't know why-" he breaks off. "Raj, get down," he mutters in a changed voice. "Now!" he says, and snaps his fingers. The lapping tongue stops, but the German shepherd stays by my side as I walk over to the steps. I pat the dog's head.

"Raj usually hates new people," Finnick observes as Peeta and I sit down. "So how come he always likes you so much?"

"Must be my new perfume. Eau de pot roast," I say, and Prim and Annie giggle. Even Glimmer smirks.

"All right, let's get down to business," Annie says then. "I brought us out here to make sure nobody's listening. Anybody have any new ideas?"

"Any one of us could have done it," Madge says quietly.

"Only some of us had any reason to," Peeta replies.

"Why?" says Prim. "I mean, just because Mr. Snow was obnoxious wasn't a reason to murder him. And quit grinning like that, Cato, unless you really did do something."

"Maybe Snow knew too much," Glimmer says unexpectedly. Everyone turns to her, but she goes on unwrapping a Hostess cupcake without looking up.

"So?" says Johanna at last. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well . . ." Glimmer raises mint-green eyes to look around at the group. "Snow always got here at the crack of dawn, didn't he? And his office is right up there, isn't it?" She nods, and I follow her gaze to a window on the second floor of the red-brick building. Then I look down the hill, to the bottom where Bonnie had been found.

There is a pause, and then Annie says, "Oh, my God."

"What?" Marvel demands, looking around. Johanna scowls and Prim blinks. Clove is chuckling.

"She's saying he might have seen Bonnie's murderer," Peeta says. "And then whoever killed her, killed him to keep him from talking. But do we know he was here that morning?"

I'm now staring from the second-story window to the chimney that rises from the school. It had been cold the morning we found Bonnie dead, and the principal had a fireplace in his office. Had there been smoke rising from the chimney that morning?

"You know," I say softly to Annie, "I think he was here.''

"Then that could be it," Prim says excitedly. "And it would mean it couldn't have been one of us who killed him-because whoever killed him killed Bonnie, too. And none of us would have done that."

Annie is looking vastly relieved, and there are nods around the Circle. A little voice inside of me is trying to say something, but I push it down.

Gale, however, haves his lip curled. "And who besides one of us would have been able to drop an avalanche on somebody?"

"Anybody with a stick or a crowbar," Johanna snaps. "Those rocks on the cliff at Devil's Cove are just piled up any old way. An outsider could've done it easy. So it's back to the question of which of them did it-if we have to ask anymore." There is a hunting light in her face, and Marvel and Cato are looking eager. That can't be good.

"You leave Delly alone until we figure this out," Annie says flatly.

"And Rye," Clove adds throatily, with a meaningful look. Johanna glares at her, then at last drops her eyes.

"Now that we've got that solved, I have a real problem to talk about," Glimmer says, brushing crumbs off the front of her sweater. "Homecoming is in less than two weeks, and I haven't figured out who to ask yet. And I haven't even got any shoes . . ."

The meeting degenerates, and shortly after that the bell rang.

"Who are you going to ask to Homecoming?" Prim asks me that afternoon. We are driving home from school with Annie and Madge.

"Oh . . ." I'm taken aback. "I haven't thought about it. I-I've never asked a guy to a dance in my life."

"Well, now's the time to start," Madge said. "Usually the outsiders don't ask us-they're a little scared. But you can have any guy you want; just pick him and tell him to show up." .

"Just like that?" I ask.

"Yep," Prim says cheerfully. "Like that. Of course, Madge and I don't usually ask guys who're together with somebody. But Clove and Glimmer . . ." She rolls her eyes. "They like picking guys who're taken."

"I've noticed," I say. There is no question about whom Annie goes to dances with. "What about Johanna?"

"Oh, Jo usually just goes stag," says Prim. "She and Marvel hang out, playing cards and stuff in the boiler room. And Cato just goes from girl to girl to girl; none of them like him, but they're all too scared not to dance with him. You'll see it there; it's funny."

"I probably won't see it," I say. The idea of walking up to some guy and ordering him to escort me is simply unthinkable. Impossible, even if I'm a witch. I might as well tell everybody now and let them get used to it. "I probably won't go. I don't like dances much."

"But you have to go," Prim says, dismays, and Annie says, "It's the most fun-really, Katniss. Look, let's go to my house right now and talk about guys you can ask."

"But… I'm not sure," I say.

"Come on!" Prim says. "You really need to go."

I sigh and we head to Annie's place. We spend the whole afternoon talking about guys who they think it would be good for me to invite, but I pull all those ideas down. There is only one person that I'll be more than happy to go with, and he's on the circle.

They finally give up and begin to talk of they're going with and what they are going to wear.

I swear, it was horrible.

The next day, it went really slow and boring. At school Peeta and I keep stealing looks when no one was noticing. I wonder if Peeta's going to the Homecoming, and if he is, with whom he is going. I don't want to sound jealous person but I can't help it.

It wasn't until this afternoon that Prim comes to my house.

We are on the kitchen, preparing some salad. We are working on silence the Prim brakes it. "You know, it's not too late to change your mind about the homecoming. And I wish you would. Dancing is very witchy-and it's Nature. It's like one of our incantations: _Man to woman, woman to man, Ever since the world began. Heart to heart, and hand to hand, Ever since the world began.''_

She adds looking at me thoughtfully, "Are you sure that there isn't a guy that you're interested in? We could do a spell to–"

"No!" I say. I don't want her to pull a spell on Peeta! For gods sakes! "I mean… hum, no." I say more calmly.

"Thank you," Prim says. For an instant I thought it was addressed to me, but Prim is now talking to the thyme. "I'm sorry I needed part of the root, too, but I brought this to help you grow back," she goes on, tucking a pink crystal into the soil. "That reminds me, have you found your working crystal yet?" she says to me.

"No," I say.

"Don't worry, you will," Prim assures me. "It'll just turn up one day, and you'll know." She stands up with the thyme plant in her hand. "All right, let's go inside and I'll show you how to make an infusion. Nobody should fool around with herbs unless they know exactly what they're doing. And if you change your mind about Homecoming, thyme soup helps overcome shyness."

I follow her, and spend the day with her.

Today is Friday, and right now we are on the homecoming game.

"Applaud," Prim says, nudging her. "For the Homecoming Queen. Delly really looks almost pretty, doesn't she?"

"1 guess," I say, applauding mechanically. "Prim, how come one of us isn't Homecoming Queen? Instead of an outsider?"

"Annie didn't want to be," Prim says. "And Jo and the others think it's too goody-goody. But from the way Rye's looking at Delly, I'd say Clove made a mistake. She told Rye to come to the dance with her, but he'd already asked Delly and he's a fighter. It'll be interesting to see who gets him."

"You can tell me all about it," Cassie said. "I saw the last fight between Faye and Sally; this one I can

miss."

But it didn't turn out that way.

I'm in the herb garden when the phone call comes. I have to go through the kitchen and into the new wing of the house to get to the telephone.

"Hello, Katniss? It's Annie."

"Oh, Annie, are you all right? Is everything okay?"

She laughs. "Yes everything's fine. I call to ask you a favor."

I open my mouth to say something but Annie goes on.

"Rye called Clove to tell her he's going with Delly after all, and Clove is livid. So when she heard that Peeta didn't have a couple, she called to say she would go with Peeta, because she knew that we would want him to go even if he didn't have a person to go with. So I told her she couldn't because I'd already asked you to go with him."

"Why?" I blurt, ask a stupid question . . .

"Because Clove is on the prowl," Annie says patiently. "And she likes Peeta, and the mood she's in tonight, she'll try anything. And Peeta, well, him being Peeta, will accept, even if he doesn't want to. He asks us for help, so…"

"But Annie ... I don't even have a dress. I'm all muddy. . . ."

"Come over Glimmer's. All the other girls we're there. We'll take care of you."

"But . . ." I shut my eyes. "Annie, you just don't understand. I can't. I-"

"Oh, Katniss, I know it's a lot to ask. But we don't know who else to turn to. Peeta doesn't know what to do with Clove."

I press a hand to my forehead. "Okay. Okay, I'll do it. But-"

"Thank you, Katniss! Now come right to Glimmer's-I've talked with her and Prim and Madge. They'll fix you up. I'm going to call Peeta and tell him."

'_Maybe Peeta would get them out of it somehow,'_ I think as I drive the minivan up Glimmer's driveway. But I doubt it. When Annie makes her mind up about something, she is immovable.

Glimmer's house haves columns. My mother said it was bad Greek Revival, but I secretly think it's impressive. The inside is imposing too, and Glimmer's bedroom is in a class by itself.

It's all the colors of the sea: sand, shell, pearl, periwinkle. The headboard on Glimmer's bed is shaped like a giant scalloped shell. But what caught my eye are the mirrors- I'd never seen so many mirrors in one place.

"Katniss!" Prim burst in just behind me, making me turn in surprise. "I've got it!" Prim announces triumphantly to the other girls, holding up a plastic-draped hanger. Inside me glimpses some pale, gleaming material.

"It's a dress Granny Quincey got me this summer-but I haven't worn it and I never will. It's not my style, but it'll be perfect on you, Katniss."

"Oh, God," is all I can think of to say. I've changed my mind; I couldn't do this after all. "Prim-thanks-but I might ruin it . . ."

"Don't let her talk," Madge orders from the other side of the room. "Stick her in a bath; she needs one."

"That way," Glimmer says, gesturing with splayed fingers. "I can't do anything until my nails are dry, but all the stuff's in there."

"Beauty bath mix," Prim gloats, examining the assortment of bottles on the gilt shelves in Glimmer's bathroom. There are all kinds of bottles, some with wide necks and some with long narrow necks, green and deep glowing blue. "Here, this is great: thyme, mint, rosemary, and lavender. It smells wonderful, and it's tranquilizing, too." She scatters bright-colored dried flowers in the steaming water.

"Now get in and scrub. Oh, this is good," she goes on, sniffing at another bottle. "Chamomile hair rinse-it brightens hair, brings out the highlights. Use it!"

I obey dazedly. I feel as if I've just been inducted into boot camp.

When I get back to the bedroom, I see that they are almost done. Madge directs me to sit down and hold a hot washcloth on my face. "It's 'a fragrant resin redolent with the mysterious virtues of tropical balms,' " Madge says, reading from a Book of Shadows. "It 'renders the complexion clear and brilliant'-and it really does, too. So hold this on your face while I do your hair."

"Madge's wonderful with hair," Annie volunteers as I gamely buried my face in the washcloth.

"Yes, but I'm not going to give her a do," Madge says critically. "I'm just making it soft and natural, waving back from her face. Plug in those hot rollers, Glimmer."

While Madge works, I can hear Prim and Prim arguing in the depths of Glimmer's walk-in closet.

"Glimmer," Prim shouts. "I never saw so many pairs of shoes in my life. What do you do with them all?"

"I don't know. I just like buying them. Which is lucky for people who want to borrow them," Glimmer calls back.

"Now, let's get you into the dress," Madge says, some time later. "No, don't look, not yet. Come over to the vanity and Glimmer will do your makeup."

Oh god.

I'm about to disagree. But they cut me off.

"No, you want Glimmer to do it," Prim says, emerging from the closet. "I promise, Katniss; just wait and see."

"But I don't wear makeup-I won't look like me ..."

"Yes, you will. You'll look more like you." Glimmer says. I look at her, what does she mean? "Well, somebody decide, for heaven's sake," She says, standing by in a kimono and waving a powder puff impatiently. "I've got myself to do, too, you know."

I yield and sat on a stool, facing Glimmer. "Hm," says Glimmer, turning to my face this way and that. "Hmm."

The next half hour is filled with bewildering instructions. "Look up," Glimmer commands, wielding a brown eyeliner pencil. "Look down. See, this will give you doe eyes," she goes on, "and nobody will even be able to tell you're wearing anything. Now a little almond shadow . . ." She dips a small brush in powder and blew off the excess. "Now just a little silver in the crease to make you look mysterious . . ."

Eyes shut, I relax. This is… interesting. I feel even more decadent and pampered when Prim says,

"I'll take care of your nails."

"What are you using?" I ask trustingly.

"Witch-hazel infusion and Chanel silver polish," Prim replies, and giggles. I laugh.

"Don't jolt my hand," Glimmer says crossly. "Now suck in your cheeks like a fish. Stop laughing. You've got great cheekbones, I'm just going to bring them out a little. Now go like this; I'm going to put Rose-glow on your lips."

When at last she sits back to survey her work, the other girls gather around, even Johanna does.

"And finally," Glimmer says, "just a drop of magnet perfume here, and here, and here." She touches the hollow of my throat, my earlobes, and my wrists with something that smells wild and exotic and wonderful.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Mignonette, tuberose, and ylang-ylang," Glimmer says. "It makes you irresistible. And I should know."

Alarm lanced through my body suddenly, but before I had time to think, Prim is turning me, loosening the towel around my neck. "Wait, don't look until you've got your shoes on. . . Now!" Prim says jubilantly. "Look at that!"

I open my eyes and caught in my breath. Then, scarcely knowing what I was doing, I move closer to the full-length mirror, to the lovely stranger reflected there. I can hardly resist reaching out to touch the glass with my fingertips.

The creature in front of the mirror haves fine, dark-brown hair waving softly back from her face. The highlights shimmer when I move my head, so it must be me-but it can't be. My eyes don't have that dreamy, mysterious aura. My skin doesn't have that dewy glow, and I don't blush that way, to bring out my cheekbones. And my lips definitely don't have that breathless ready-to-be-kissed look.

"It's the lipstick," Glimmer explains. "Don't smudge it."

"It's possible," says Madge, "that you've gone too far, Glimmer."

"Do you like the dress?" Prim asks. "It's the perfect length, just short enough, but still romantic."

"I think it matches your eyes," Says Annie softly.

The girl in the mirror, the one with the delicate bones and the swan's neck, turns from side to side. The dress is silvery and shimmering, like yards of starlight, and it's true, my eyes look silver and shiny. Glimmer's shoes, appropriately, look like glass slippers.

"Oh, thank you!" I say, whirling to look at the other girls. "I mean-I don't know how to say thank you. I mean-I finally look like a witch!" And I feel it's true, all of them are beautiful and makes me feel a little out of place.

They burst into laughter, except Johanna, who throws a disgusted glance at the ceiling. I hug Prim, and then, impulsively, hug Glimmer, too.

"Well, you are a witch," Glimmer says reasonably. "I'll show you how to do it yourself if you want."

I feel something like humility. I'd thought Glimmer is just an airhead, but it isn't true. Glimmer loves beauty and is generous about sharing it with other people. I smile into the mint-green eyes and feel as if I've unexpectedly make a new friend.

"Wait, we almost forgot!" Madge says. "You can't go to a dance without a single crystal to your name."

She rummages in her canvas bag, and then says, "Here, this will be perfect; it was my great-grandmother." She holds up a necklace: a thin chain with a teardrop of clear quartz. She takes it lovingly and pulls it around my neck, admiring the way it lay in the hollow of my throat. Then I hug Madge, too.

From downstairs a doorbell chimes faintly, and, closer, a male voice shout, "For crying out loud! Are you going to get that, Glimmer?"

"It's one of the guys!" Glimmer says, throw into a tizzy. "And we're not ready. You're the only one dressed, Katniss; run and get it before Dad has a fit."

"Hello, Mr. Whittier; sorry, Mr. Whittier," I gasp as I hurry downstairs, which it's not easy when you're wearing heals. It isn't until I'm at the door that I think_, 'Oh, please, please, please, let it be any one of the others. Don't let it be him. Please.'_

I'm so nervous that I prefer to calm down before I get to see him. Peeta is standing there when I open the door.

He's wearing a simple smile, for a long moment he simply stares at me. I smile, and we stand gazing at each other.

"You look . . ." He paused. "Beautiful."

"So do you," I say. I take another breath, but at that moment I hear a voice from the second floor.

"Here," Prim says, leaning over the balustrade to toss me a tiny beaded purse. "Get her to the dance, Peeta; that way she'll have a chance at some guys who're available." And, from the bedroom, Glimmer calls, "But not too many, Katniss! Leave some for us!"

I chuckle. "I'll try to fend a few of them off," Peeta calls back, and I have the feeling that he means it. My pulse calms a little. _'It'll be okay'_ I think. It's like acting in a play, and all I have to do is remember my role.

I feel sure Peeta can handle this ... well, almost sure. Something in his blue eyes sends thin chills up my spine.

"Let's go," Peeta says, and I take a deep breath and step with him outside into the night.

He opens the door of the car for me; I step inside. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," He closes de door and goes to open his own. Once inside he turns to me.

"Are you sure of this? What if we are not that careful and they notice something?"

I sigh and touch his cheek. "It'll be okay." He smiles at me and leans down to kiss me.

"As long as you're here with me, it will," he whispers.

I can't help but thank Annie for this.

**Sorry I know it's short but the next chapter it'll be longer. See the positive side! Peeta and Katniss are going together to the Prom! Next chapter will be drama and magic! Please review!**

**Lots of love,**

**Mar**


	10. Chapter Ten

**Hey everyone! So it's Friday! Again I'm sorry because I couldn't update last week, but I've been very busy. Also I changed my name to Fantasydream17, and the story's name is going to change to, check at the end of the chapter for more information. Sorry that it's short!**

**Chapter Ten**

When we finally arrive school, I feel nervous. The night seems clear and cool and filled with magic, and the gym is transformed. It's so big that it seems part of the night, and the twinkling lights woven around the pipes and girders overhead are like stars.

I look around for any other members of the Circle. I don't see any. What I see are outsiders looking in surprise at me and Peeta. And in the boys' eyes there is something more than surprise, something I'm not at all used to. It's the kind of openmouthed stare guys turned on Annie when Annie was looking particularly beautiful.

I'm not comfortable at all.

But I can't just stand here with everyone staring at me any longer; it's too embarrassing. I turn to Peeta. Who is looking at me with an amused smile on his face. _'So he thinks that this is funny, huh?' _I scowl at him, and he immediately laughs.

"What's so funny?" I ask.

"No.. hum… nothing." He answers with a chuckle. I roll my eyes. Then Peeta gives me a crooked smile and says, "Want to dance?"

I nod and we head to the dance floor. And then the music starts, soft and sweet.

We reach the center and he takes me in his arms. Then he says under his breath, "We'd better be careful," and I nod but my instincts betray me and I slowly close my eyes and lean on him more. Also, Peeta lays his cheek against my hair. And I feel more relaxed.

I don't know how long we stand like that; but the next thing that I know is that the music stops and as much as I would love to stay like that, we can't if we don't want to cause any suspicions. Sighing, I take a step back and begin to take my arms from Peeta and open my eyes.

He quickly scans the room, no one is watching us.

My eyes dart through the room and stop on a light blond hair with a lot of tiny flowers.

Prim and Madge.

I pull Peeta by the arm, and star walking where they are and he follows me. They are talking with another two outsiders, but at difference from the girl that is dancing with Cato right now, they actually seem to be happy with them.

I'm glad.

As we are getting close to them they notice us.

"Hey! There you are!" Prim says with a grin on her face, meanwhile, Madge is wearing her normal smile. They introduce us –Peeta and I– to their dates, and Peeta, being Peeta, quickly starts a conversation with them, living us three by ourselves.

"So, what do you think?" asks Prim.

"Well… About what?" I ask a little confused.

They both giggle. "About the Homecoming, you silly!" Says Prim.

"Oh! I think is great." It sounded more like a question than a statement.

They both smile. "You still got a lot of things to learn." Madge says. What is that supposed to mean?

I'm about to ask when someone puts his arm around me. I don't have to look to know who it is, because I know it belongs to Finnick.

"Hello, Katniss," He says.

"Hello, Finnick," I say playing along with him.

"Want a sugar cube?" He asks while offering me one with his free hand. I stare at him like if just lost his mind, probably he has.

"I… I'm… What?" I ask in disbelieve.

He smirks. "That if you want a sugar cube?" He says slowly as if he's talking to a small child.

"No, thank you."

"Finnick leave the girl alone, she's already suffering because she came against her will." Annie says with a smile.

"Fine, but I don't get it, I mean she's probably suffering even more because she came here with Peeta," he says. Oh, Finnick, if you only knew…

"Geez, thanks man," Peeta says. I didn't realize that he had come back.

"Aw! You know it's not personal," Finnick says. "It's just reality."

"Reality of what?" Questions Peeta.

"The reality her dream of the possibility of coming to the dance with me can't happen; and instead she's stuck with you," he continues. "But she needs to know that my heart already belongs to Annie."

I put my hand over my heart and pretend to be hurt. "That hurts! I can't believe that I never get the chance to come with the famous Finnick Odair!" I pretend to wipe a tear.

They chuckle, and then Prim speaks.

"There's Johanna. She always gets one dance in before heading off to the boiler room with the Henderson," murmurs Prim, smiling mischievously.

"What do they do there?" I ask, following the view.

"Play cards and drink, but no, not what you're thinking. None of the guys would dare try anything with Jo, she can outwrestle them all. They're just an awe of her," Madge says.

"Speaking of awesome…" Prim says.

I land my eyes on Clove; she's wearing a small strapless black dress. Sexy and elegant. She looks like some exotic creature.

Clove doesn't seem to notice us because her entire attention is on Gale.

I'm suppressed to find him in here, he never seem to me like the type to go to dances. He's standing by a red-haired girl. Clove makes her way over him and places a hand on his arm. Gale looks down at her hand and stiffens. He shouts a cold glare over his shoulder, then shrugs of the hand of him. The red-haired girl eyes are wide open. But Gale as usual, his face is emotionless.

"Uh-oh," Prim whispers. "Clove's trying to hedge her bets, but Gale isn't cooperating."

"It's her own fault," Madge says. "She kept after Rye until the last minute."

"I think she's still after him now," said Cassie.

Rye is just coming off the dance floor with Delly. His expression is the exact opposite of wintry; he looks as if he is having a wonderful time, flashing his lady-killing smile in all directions. Proud to have the Homecoming Queen on his arm. But it's funny, how quickly people stops smiling when they run into Clove.

Rye tries to hustle Delly back onto the dance floor, but Clove moves as quickly as a stalking panther and cut them off. Then she and Delly stand on either side of Rye, like a big, glossy black dog and a little rust-colored terrier fighting over a tall, slim bone.

"That's stupid," Prim says. "Clove could have almost any guy here, but she only wants the ones who're a challenge."

"Well, it's not our problem," Madge says sensibly. She turns to the outsider boy beside her and smiles and they go together onto the dance floor. Prim looks nettled for an instant, then smiles, shrugs at me, and collects her own partner. I see Finnick and Annie do the same.

And Peeta and I end up alone; I lift my head so I can look at him. I can't help but notice how handsome he is. But he turns to me and smirks. Damn, he knows what I'm doing. I blush and look at my feet.

"Something wrong, Katniss?" He asks a little too innocent. I can practically hear his smile.

I'm about to answer when something catches my eye. Rye, Delly and Clove are in the dance floor. I feel sorry for Rye, he doesn't have the chance to be with Delly because of Clove; who are right now in a glares contest. If looks could kill, they both would be already dead.

Rye looks nervous, like he doesn't know what to do and I can't blame him though. But he looks up and catches my eye. His reaction is startling. His eyes widened. He blinks. He stares at me as if he had never seen a girl before. Then he steps away from Clove and Delly as if he'd forgotten their existence.

Oh god…

I look to Peeta and I see in his eyes that he knows about my dilemma, without any agreed meant he nods his head slightly. I also know that he isn't happy about it. I not happy but what can I do? I mean his hand is already in front of me. I bite my lip and take it along with one more look to Peeta to find his glace is darker than usual.

Rye takes us to the dance floor, to my luck it's another slow dance.

I see Clove and Delly watching at me. Clove is giving me a dead glare, but quickly storms out. Delly on the other hand, I feel sorry. She looks crushed and sad. A little jealous, but I think relieved that he isn't with Clove. Her eyes meet mine and she gives me a sad smile. I give her nod as if telling her that I won't do anything. She returns it and leaves.

"We make a good couple," he says.

I laugh. Trust Rye to compliment himself in complimenting me. "Thank you. I hope Delly isn't mad." I say expecting him say something that he did it to escape from Clove.

"It's not Delly I'm worried from. It's her."

"Clove, I know." I wish I could give him an advice of how to handle Clove, but as you can see, no body know how to handle her.

I look around to the dance floor and see Annie and Finnick, they both smile at me. Glimmer is dancing too – very close with a muscular boy, her red-gold hair shining in the gloom – she winks at me over her partner's shoulder.

And then finally, it's over. I look up to see Rye and say, "Good luck with Clove." Is the best advice I can give him.

He flashes me a smile, "I can handle it," he says confidently. "Don't you want to dance again?"

I shake my head no, "No, thanks."

"No? Are you sure?"

"Thanks, but I better get back." I mumble.

Somehow I manage to escape from his grip, I start to walk away; but to my luck, another guy comes out of nowhere, asking me to dance. I look around to find Peeta, but I can't see him anyway. I sigh and smile a little before saying "yes" to the guy. I think he's a senior.

But it doesn't stop there. All sorts of guys, seniors and juniors, athletes and class officers, are coming up to me. I see boys' eyes wander from their own dates to look at me as I dance.

'_I didn't know dances were like this. I didn't know anything was like this,' _I think. For the moment I'm entirely swept up in the magic of the night, and I push all troublesome reflection away. I let the music take me and let myself just be for a while. Then I see Delly's face on the sidelines.

Rye isn't with her. Actually, I haven't seen Rye in a while.

When it's over, I literally, run around the crowd trying to avoid the guy that is about to ask me to dance. I manage it, and spot Prim. She sees me and waves.

"You're the belle of the ball," she says excitedly, tucking her arm through mine and patting my hand. "Clove's furious. Everybody's furious."

"It's the magnet perfume. I think Glimmer used too much."

"Don't be silly. It's you. You're a perfect little-gazelle. No, a little white unicorn, one of a kind. I think even Peeta has noticed."

I can let her think that. "Oh, I doubt that," I say lightly. "He's just being polite. You know Peeta."

"Yes," says Prim. "Sir Peeta the Chivalrous. He turned around and asked Delly to dance after you left with Rye, they been friends since childhood."

I smile. But my heart is pounding so hard. Suddenly I'm not sure if finding Peeta it's the right choice; I don't want to dance anymore. I don't want to be the Belle of the dance. I don't want every girl here to be furious with me.

Glimmer arrives with a smile directly to me.

"I told you I knew what I was talking about," she says. "Having a good time?"

"Wonderful," I say, digging my nails in one palm. I open my mouth to say something else, but just then I get a glimpse of Cato making his way to me. His face is eager, his usually slinking step purposeful.

"I should have warned you," Prim says in an undertone. "Cato's been chasing you all night, but some other guy always got there first."

"If he does catch you he'll be all over you like ugly on an ape," Glimmer adds pleasantly, rummaging in her purse. "Oh, damn, I gave my lipstick to Johanna. Where is she?"

"Hi there," Cato says, reaching us. His eyes slid over me. "So you're free at last."

"Not really," I blurt. "I have to-go find Johanna for Glimmer." What I have to do is get away from all this for a while. "I know where she is; I'll be right back," I continue to the startle Glimmer and Prim.

"I'll come along," Cato begins instantly, but Prim opens her mouth and waves at him in dismissal.

"I'll help you to find her, sometimes is hard to know where she is," she says, meanwhile pulling my arm, making me move.

A stairway descends into the school basement. We slowly go down the steps, gripping the smooth metal handrail. God, it's like going down into a tomb. Who would want to spend their time here instead of in the light and music up in the gym?

The boiler room itself smells of machine oil and beer. It isn't just cool; it is cold. And it's silent, except for the steady dripping of water somewhere.

A terrible place. All around us are machines with giant dials, and overhead there are huge pipes of all kinds. It's like being in the bowels of a ship. And it's alone.

"Hello? Johanna?" Prim says.

No answer.

"Jo? Marvel?"

"Maybe they can't hear us." I say to her. She nods.

"There is a room behind this one, want to check?" Prim says.

We start to walk again, Prim is shaking a little. I open the door slowly.

"Is anybody here?" I ask.

A large machine is blocking our way; I turn to see if there is something. At first I think it's empty, but I take a closer look at it.

Something's wrong. And in this instant my throat closes and my mind fragments.

Swinging feet.

Swinging feet where feet shouldn't be. Somebody walking on air. Flying like a witch. Only, the feet aren't flying. They are swinging, back and forth, in two dark brown loafers. Two dark brown loafers with little tassels.

I look up at the face.

The relentless dripping of water go on. The smell of oil and stale alcohol nauseates me.

I gasp.

My eyes wide open. Prim comes close and turns to see what I'm looking. Her face turns pale like a ghost. She covers her mouth with her hand and begins to sob.

I understand why.

The face, that horrible blue face. No more lady-killer smile. I have to do something to help him, but how can I help? Nobody's neck bends that way when they're alive. Every horrible detail is so clear. The fraying rope, the swinging shadow on the cinder-block wall, the machinery with its dials and switches, and the awful stillness.

Swinging like a pendulum.

We back away, trying not to see the curly brown hair on the head that is lolling sideways. He can't be dead when I'd just danced with him. He'd just had his arms around me, he'd flashed me that cocksure smile. And now…

We step back and hands fell on my shoulders.

"Steady. Steady. Hang on there."

It's Gale.

"Breathe slower. Put your head down."

"Nine-one-one," Prim gasps, "Call nine-one-one, Gale. Rye-"

He takes a hard glance at the swinging feet. "He doesn't need a doctor. Do you?"

"We-" She is hanging on to his hand. "We came down to get Johanna."

"She's in the old science building. They got busted here."

"And we saw him-Rye-" I finish for her.

Gale's arm is comforting, solid. "I get the picture," he says. "Do you want to sit down?"

I shake my head. He nods and turns to Prim who's just about to fade out. She's sitting some old chair hugging herself with her eyes close.

Gale's arm is still around me, comforting me? Gale, who hates girls and is coldly polite to them at best?

"What's going on here?"

I spin to see Peeta on the door way, I feel better. I try to speak but my throat doesn't let me, so Gale does.

"They're a little upset. They just found Rye hanging from a pipe."

"What?" Peeta moves swiftly to look around the machine. He comes back looking grim and alert, his eyes glinting a shade of dark blue as they always do in times of trouble.

"How much do you know about this?" he asks Gale crisply.

"I came down to get something I left," Gale says, equally short. "I found them about ready to keel over. And that's all."

Peeta's expression softens slightly. "Are you okay?" he say to Prim and I. "I've been looking everywhere for you. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know what. Then Glimmer said you'd gone to look for Johanna, but that you were looking in the wrong place." As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he reaches out to take me from Gale-and Gale resists. For a moment there is tension between the two boys and I look from one to the other with dawning surprise and alarm.

I move away from both and go next to Prim. "I'm all right," I say. And, strangely, saying so made it almost true. Prim stands up.

"The dark energy," she whispers.

Peeta looks more keen and alert. "You think-?"

"Yes," she says. "Yes, I do. But if only we could tell for sure . . ." She considers for a moment. My hands find Madge's crystal, thinking of how Rye's body looked swinging like a pendulum.

'_Usually we use clear quartz as a pendulum ...'_

"If the dark energy was here, maybe we can trace it," I say, fire with the idea. "See where it came from-or where it went. If you guys will help."

Prim looks at me, with a nod. I can tell that she was thinking the same I did.

I snatch Madge's necklace off and hold it up, looking at the teardrop of quartz crystal.

Gale is looking skeptical, but Peeta cut in before he could speak. "Of course we'll help. But it's dangerous; we've got to be careful." His fingers grip my arm reassuringly.

"Then-we have to go back in there," I say, and before I change my mind I move, darting into the far room where the feet still swing. Gale and Peeta are close behind me and Prim is next to me. Without letting myself think, I hold the crystal up high, watching it shimmer in the light.

At first it just spins in circles. But then it begins to seesaw violently, pointing out a direction.

**Again, I'm sorry for the late update, and that this chapter is shorter than usual, but I've been very busy! Remember I change my nickname to Fantasydream17, and the name of the story is going to change as well. The new title is going to be: "Between love and magic".**

**Please review, the next chapter as I promised is going out tomorrow or the Sunday. So, 246 days till the premier of The Hunger Games: Catching Fire!**

**Lots of love,**

**Fantasydream17**


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Hey everyone! So it's Friday, I'm so sorry I couldn't update this weekend, I'm on vacation and I was with my family the whole time, I only get to use the computer like half an hour or so this Tuesday and some time yesterday and today. I'll like to start to answer questions from your reviews. So if you want to know anything just ask.**

**HGROCKSNEW****: Thanks, and it's not the they are used to it, it's just that they are different, like Katniss some of them don't like to show they emotions and of course, the dead of those characters are related, you'll find out during the lasts Chapters, and unfortunately, there would be more dead, I mean it's the Hunger Games.**

**Please review!  
**

**Chapter Eleven  
**

I follow the motion of the crystal. It's pointing upstairs.

"We'd better get out in the open, anyway," Peeta says. "Otherwise we might not be able to follow it."

I nod. Peeta and I are speaking quickly, tensely-but calmly. Our violent agitation is hold just under the surface, kept down by sheer willpower_. 'Having something to do is what made the difference,'_ I think as we climb the stairs. I can't afford to have hysterics now; I have to keep my mind clear to trace Rye's killer.

In the hallway outside the custodian's office we run into Johanna and the Henderson brothers.

"Peeta, dude, what's going on?" Marvel says. It's obvious that he'd been drinking. "We were just coming down for a little liquid refreshment, you know-"

"Not down there," Peeta says shortly. He looks at Doug, who seems less inebriated. "Go get Madge," he says, "and tell her to call the police. Rye Lovejoy's been murdered. And take Prim with you."

"Are you serious?" Johanna demands. The fierce light is in her face again. "All right!"

"Don't," says Prim. "You haven't seen him. It's terrible- and it's nothing to joke about."

Peeta's arm shot out as Johanna starts towards her. "Why don't you help us instead of picking fights with our side? We're trying to trace the dark energy that killed him."

"The dark energy," Johanna repeats scornfully.

I take a quick breath, but Gale is speaking. "I think it's garbage too," he says calmly. "But if it wasn't the dark energy, that means a person did it-like somebody who had a grudge against Rye." He stares at Johanna, his eyes hard.

Johanna stares back arrogantly. I look at her as she stands there in her short black tank dress-more like a sleeveless top than a dress-and her suede boots. Johanna is belligerent, antagonistic, hostile-and strong. For the first time in a long while I notice the crescent-moon tattoo on Johanna's collarbone.

"Why don't you help us, Johanna?" I say. "This crystal is picking something up-or it was before we all started talking. Help us find what it's tracing." And then I add, "Of course, it's probably dangerous-"

"So what? You think I'm scared?" Johanna demands. "All right, I'm coming. You guys get out of here," she tells the Hendersons and Prim. Somewhat to my surprise, Marvel and Cato does, taking Prim with them, presumably going off to tell Madge.

"All right," I say, holding the crystal up again. Part of me is afraid that it won't do anything now that our concentration had been broken. And at first it simply hangs at the end of the chain, swaying very slightly. But then, as the four of us stare at it, the swaying slowly becomes more pronounced. I hold my breath, trying to keep my hand from trembling. I don't want to influence the crystal in any way.

It's definitely swinging now. In towards the boiler room and out toward the front of the school.

"Due east," Peeta says in a low voice.

Holding the crystal high in my left hand, I follow the direction of the swing, down the hallway. Outside, the moon is almost full, high in the sky, dropping west behind us.

"The Blood Moon," Peeta says quietly. I remember Annie saying that witches counted their year by moons, not months. The name of this one is hideously appropriate, but I don't look back at it again. I need to focus on the crystal.

At first we walked through town, with closed stores and empty buildings on either side of us. Nothing stays open past midnight in New Salem. Then the stores become less frequent, and there are a few clustered houses. Finally we are walking down a road which gets lonelier and lonelier with every step, and surround us are the night noises.

There is no human habitation out here, but the moon is bright enough to see by. Our shadows stretches in front of us as we go by. The air is cold, and I shiver without taking my eyes off the crystal.

I feel something slip over my shoulders. Peeta's jacket. I glance at him gratefully, then quickly look at the crystal again; if I falter in my concentration it seems to falter too, losing decisiveness and slowing almost to a random bobbing. It never swung as vigorously as the peridot we had done for Annie-but then, I'm not Diana, and I don't have a nearly-full coven to back me.

Behind me, I hear Peeta says sharply, "Gale?" And then Johanna's derisive snort, "I wouldn't take it, anyway. I never get cold."

We are on a narrow dirt road now, still heading east. We are heading to… Oh, my God-Clove's house. Maybe she did it. I begin to tense but the coldness that goes through me now is deeper and more numbing than the night wind.

I keep my eyes on the quartz teardrop, which seems to shine with a milky light in the darkness, and I let it swing the way it wants to. But it doesn't seem to be leading to Crowhaven Road. We are still going east, not northeast. And suddenly the narrow, rutted road we are on begins to seem familiar.

Up ahead I glimpse a chain-link fence.

"The cemetery," Peeta says softly.

"Wait," says Johanna. "Did you see-there, look!"

"At what, the cemetery?" Peeta asks.

"No! At that thing-there it is again! Up there on the road."

"I don't see anything," Gale says.

"You have to. See, it's moving-"

"I see a shadow," Peeta says. "Or maybe a possum or something . . ."

"No, it's big," Johanna insists. "There! Can't you see that?"

I looked up at last; I can't help it. The lonely road in front of me seems dark and still at first, but then I see-something. A shadow, I think . . . but a shadow of what? It doesn't lie along the road as a shadow ought to. It seems to be standing high, and it's moving.

"I don't see anything," Gale says again, curtly.

"Then you're blind," Johanna snaps. "It's like a person."

Under Peeta's jacket, my skin is rising in goose pimples. It does look like a person- except that it seems to change every minute, now taller, now shorter, now wider, now thinner. At times it disappeared completely.

"It's heading for the cemetery," Johanna says.

"No-look! It's veering off toward the shed," Peeta cries. "Gale, come on!"

Beside the road is an abandoned shed. Even in the moonlight it's clear that it's falling to pieces. The dim shape seems to whisk towards it, merging with the darkness behind it.

Peeta and Gale are running, Gale snarling, "We're chasing after nothing!" But I'm standing poised, tense and alert, scanning the roadside. I look at the chain in dismay. Everyone's concentration haves been shattered, the crystal is gyrating aimlessly. I look up to say something-and drew in a quick breath, but I see the shadow again.

"There it is!" I yell.

It reappeared beside the shed, and its moving fast. It goes through the chain-link fence.

Being a hunter, I'm after it in an instant, running like a deer. I hear footsteps and I know that Johanna is right behind me.

"Peeta!" I shout. "Gale! This way!" I reach the waist-high fence and go over it, it's easy, considering that I've climb trees and practically jump to get high, not even the dress borers me. I hear Johanna reaches it a second later, hesitates, then got a foothold in a chain link. I can tell that she comes down and that she hurts her ankle, but keeps going, right now there is no time to worry about it.

"You've got it," Johanna shouts. "You've got it!"

I can see it just in front of me. It had stopped in its straight-line flight and know is darting from side to side as if looking for escape. I'm darting, too, blocking it as if I'm a guard on a basketball team.

'_We must be crazy,'_ I think, as Johanna reaches me. She couldn't leave me to face the shadowy thing alone-but what are we going to do with it?

'_Is there a spell or something to hold it?,'_ I think.

Johanna is right behind me, but I notice something.

"Down!" I shout.

I go down for the ground and so does Johanna. The shadow-thing swells suddenly to twice its size, like an infuriated cat, and then it lunges at the two of us. Straight at us. I can feel it rush over my head, colder than ice and blacker than the night sky.

And then it's gone.

Johanna and I sit up and look at each other.

Peeta and Gale appear, running. "Are you all right?" Peeta demands.

"Yes," I say firmly.

"What were you two doing?" Gale says, looking at us in disbelief. And even Peeta asks, "How did you get over the fence?"

Johanna gives him a scornful look. "I didn't mean you," he says.

And now it's my turn to give him a scornful look. "Girls can climb," I say. Johanna and I stand up and begin brushing each other off, exchanging a glance of complicity. Then Gale and Johanna give the same look. They are looking at me with… respect?

"It's gone now," Peeta says, wisely dropping the subject of fences. Good. But I'll have to talkto him about it. "But at least we know what it looks like."

Gale makes a derisive sound. "What what looks like?"

"You can't still say you didn't see it," Johanna says impatiently. "It was here. It went for Katniss and me."

"I saw something-but what makes you think it was this so-called dark energy?"

"We were tracing it," says Peeta.

"How do we know what we were tracing?" Gale retorts back. "Something that was around the place Lovejoy was killed, that's all. It could be the 'dark energy'-or just some garden-variety ghost."

"A ghost?" I say, not really believing in it.

"Sure. If you believe in them at all, some of them like to hang out where murders are committed." Johanna speaks up eagerly. "Yeah, like the Wailing Woman of Beverly, that lady in black that appears when somebody is going to die by violence."

"Or that phantom ship in Kennybunk-the Isidore. The one that comes and shows you your coffin if you're going to die at sea," Peeta says, looking thoughtful.

I still don't believe it. I'd assumed it was the dark energy we were tracking-but who could tell? "It did end up in the cemetery," I say slowly. "Which seems like a logical place for a ghost. But if it wasn't the dark energy that killed Rye, who was it? Who would want to kill him?"

Even as I ask, I know the answer. Vividly, in my mind, I see Rye standing between two girls: one tall, dark, and disturbingly beautiful; the other small and wiry, with rusty hair and a pugnacious face.

"Clove or Delly," she whispered. "They were both jealous tonight. But-oh, look, even if they were mad enough to kill him, neither of them could have actually done it! Rye was an athlete."

"A witch could have done it," Johanna says matter-of-factly. "Clove could've made him do it to himself."

"And Delly's got friends on the football team," Gale adds dryly. "That's how she got herself voted Homecoming Queen. If they strangled him first, and then strung him up . . ."

Peeta is looking disturbed at this coldblooded discussion. "You don't actually believe that. I've known Delly since we were babies; I know that she would never do that."

"Hey, a woman scorned, you know?" Gale says. "I'm not saying either of them did it. I'm saying either of them could have."

"Well, we won't figure it out by standing here," I say, shivering. Peeta's jacket had slipped off when I get over the fence. "Maybe if we could try to trace it again-"

It's then I realize that I wasn't holding the crystal.

"It's gone," I say. "Madge's crystal. I must have dropped it when that thing rushed us. It should be right here on the ground, then. It's got to be," she said.

But it wasn't. We all stooped to look, and I comb through the sparse, withered grass with my fingers, but none of us could find it.

"It's been in Madge's family for generations," I say.

"Madge will understand," Peeta tells me gently. He puts a hand on my shoulder, not easily but carefully, as if keenly aware that we are in front of witnesses.

"It's true, though; there's no point in standing around here," he says to the others. "Let's get back to school. Maybe they've found out something about Rye there."As I walk, the Cinderella shoes hurting my feet and Prim's silvery dress streaked with dirt, I find myself looking straight into the Blood Moon. _'It's hovering over New Salem like the Angel of Death,'_ I think.

When we finally get to the high school we discover that the police found no leads as to Rye's killer. They hadn't say if he'd been strangled first and then hung, or if he'd just been hung. They aren't saying much of anything, and they don't like questions. _'They do such a great job!'_, I think sarcastically.

Peeta said that he'll take me home, so here we are, in front of my door, holding each other.

"Are you sure that you're okay?" He asks. He'd been asking that the whole night.

I sigh. "I'm sure." I tell him with a small smile. I know that this isn't the moment for that, but every time that I'm with him, everything makes me smile.

"I can't believe that I let all those guys touch you and dance with you."

"To be honest, I didn't want ether, but there was nothing that we could have done."

He smiles. "I know. When are we going to tell them, about us?"

"I'm not sure. But with all that it's been happening, I think that it would be better when we solve this dark energy thing."

He nods. "Yeah, that would be the best."

After that we only kiss and talk a little. Then he haves to go, but I don't want him to go. I don't want to be alone. I want him to stay with me, but I know that I can't ask him that, so I let him. Unfortunately I can't see him tomorrow; he's going to be busy. So I'll have to wait till Sunday or this Monday.

Great.

The next day is full moon. Normally, on the night of the full moon, the Circle would meet and celebrate, or so Madge told me. But on the day after Rye's murder Annie got sick, Clove is refusing to speak to anyone, and no one else haves the heart to call a meeting.

I spent the day feeling wretched.

Madge had been kind about the necklace, but I still feel guilty. I'd used it to go off on what turned out to be a wild-goose chase, and then I'd lost it. But far worse is the feeling of guilt over Rye. If I hadn't danced with him, maybe Clove and Delly wouldn't have been so angry. I know it's stupid to be thinking of that, but I can't help it.

"Do you want to talk?" my grandmother says, looking up from the table where she is cutting ginger root. The archaic kitchen which had seemed so bewildering to me when I'd first come to New Salem is now a sort of haven. There is always something to do here, cutting or drying or preserving the herbs from my grandmother's garden, and there is often a fire in the hearth. It's a cheerful, homey place.

"You know, Katniss, that I'm always here for you-and so is your mother," my grandmother goes on. She throws a sudden sharp glance up at the kitchen doorway, and I turn to see that my mother is standing there.

My mother's large blue eyes are fixed on me, and I think there is something sad in them. Ever since we'd come on this "vacation" to Massachusetts, my mother had looked troubled, but these days there was a kind of tired wistfulness in her face that puzzles me. My mother is so beautiful, and so young-looking, and the new helplessness in her expression makes her seem even younger than ever.

"And you know, Katniss, that if you're truly unhappy here-" my mother begins, with a kind of defiance in her gaze. My grandmother stiffens, and her hands stop spreading the root.

"-we don't have to stay," my mother finished.

I don't know what to says, I'm astound. After all I'd been through those first weeks in New Salem, after all those nights I'd wanted to die from homesickness-now my mother says we could go? But even stranger is the way my grandmother is glaring.

"Running away has never solved anything," My grandmother says. "Haven't you learned that yet? Haven't we all-"

"There are two children dead," My mother says. "And if Katniss wants to leave here, we will."

I look from one to the other in bewilderment. What are they talking about? "Mom," I say abruptly, "why did you bring me here?"

My mother and grandmother are still looking at each other-a battle of wills, I think. Then my mother looks away. "I'll see you at dinner," she says, and just as suddenly as she'd appeared, she slips out of the room.

My grandmother lets out a long sigh. Her old hands tremble slightly as she picks up another root. "There are some things you can only understand later," she says to me, after a moment. "You'll have to trust us for that, Katniss."

"Does this have something to do with why you and Mom were estranged for so long? Does it?"

A pause. Then my grandmother says softly, "You'll just have to trust us . . ." I open my mouth, and then shut it again. There is no use in pressing it any further. As I'd already learn, my family is very good at keeping secrets.

I'll go to the cemetery, I decide after a while. I could use the fresh air, and maybe I could find Madge's crystal and I'll would feel a little better.

Once there, I realize that it would have been better if I asked Prim to come along. Even though the October sun is bright, the air is nippy, and something about the dispirited graveyard makes me uneasy.

I locate the place where Johanna and I had had to throw ourselves facedown. Nothing moves except the tips of the grass which rippled in the breeze.

My eyes scan the ground, looking for any glint of bright silver chain or clear quartz. I go over the area inch by inch. The chain had to be right here . . . but it wasn't. At last I give up and sat back on my heels.

That is when I noticed the mound again.

I'd forgot to ask my grandmother about it. I'll have to remember tonight. I get up and walk over to it, looking at it curiously.

By daylight, I can see that the iron door is rusty. The padlock is rusty too, but it looks fairly modern. The cement chunk in front of the door is large; I don't see how it could have gotten there.

It's certainly too heavy for a person to carry.

And why would somebody want to carry it there? I turn away from the mound. The graves on this side of the cemetery are modern too; I've seen them before. The writing on the tombstones is actually legible. Elena Odair, 1975-1996, I read.

Odair is Finnick's last name; this must be his mother.

The next stone haves two names: David Everdeen, 1975-1996, and Marian Everdeen, 1975-1996. Prim's parents, I think. We both have the same last name because David was my uncle, or so my grandmother told me. God, it must be awful to have both your parents' dead. But Prim isn't the only kid on Crowhaven Road who does. Right here beside the Everdeen headstone is another marker: Daniel Mason, 1971-1996; Suzan Mason, 1973-1996. Johanna's mom and dad. It must be.

When I see the third headstone, the hairs on my arms began to prickle.

Linda Whittier, I read. Born 1974, died 1996. Glimmer's mother.

Died 1996.

Sharply, I turned to look at the Mason headstone again. I'm been right-both of Johanna's parents had died in 1996. And the Everdeens . . . I'm walking faster now. Yes. 1996 again. And Elena Odair, too: died 1996.

Something rippled up in my spine and I almost run to the headstones on the far side of the mound.

Amanda Cresta-Annie's mother- died 1996. France Undersee. Madge's mother. Died 1996. Grant Chamberlain. Clove's father. Died 1996.

Nina Mellark and Adam Mellark. Peeta's parents. Died 1996.

Nineteen ninety-six. Nineteen ninety-six! There is a terrible shaking in my stomach and the hairs on the back of my neck are quivering.

What in God's name had happened in New Salem in 1996?

**Well that was Chapter Eleven! If you have any questions I'll answer those, so please review! Tell me what do you think so far of the story, and if you'll like me to change something or if you have any suggestions.**

**Lots of love,**

**Fantasydream17**


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Hey everyone! Friday! Before you kill me, I want to let you guys know that I'm so so, sorry for not updating this whole time. I was busy, yes, but still I have no excuse from what I did and I'm very sorry. I'm sure a lot of you gave up on this story and I can't blame you guys, but let's face it. I don't have many reviews or favorites, so I'm not sure if this story it's that important anyways. Please forgive me and Review if you actually care a little for this story.**

**HGROCKSNEW - They're safe, not everyone that died in The Hunger Games is going to die in the story. If that was it, half of the circle would be dead.**

**Everllarkglee4ever- Thank you for thinking that. Please keep up with the reviews!**

**Disclamer: I do not own The Hunger Games or The Secret Circle.  
Chapter Twelve**

"It was a hurricane," Annie says.

Today it's Monday, and Annie is back in school, still a bit sniffly, but otherwise well. We are talking before American history class; it's the first chance I had had to speak to Annie alone. I didn't want to bring the question up in front of the others.

"A hurricane?" I say now.

Annie nods. "We get them every so often. That year it hit with practically no warning, and the bridge to the mainland was flooded. A lot of people got caught on the island, and a lot of people got killed."

"Oh," Is all I can think to say. How could I have been so stupid as to have freaked out over this? A natural disaster explains everything. And when I had asked my grandmother about the mound at the cemetery last night, she only had looked at me, blinking, and finally said, "Was there a mound at the old burying ground?" If there is, it might be some sort of bunker-a place for storing ammunition in one of the old wars. Again, a simple explanation.

Prim and Madge come in and take seats in front of Annie and I. I take a deep breath. "Madge, I went back to the cemetery yesterday to look for your crystal-but I still couldn't find it. I'm sorry; I guess it's gone for good," I say. I feel bad that I lose it. I don't like owning people, especially when they are my friends, somehow it makes me feel uncomfortable.

Madge's saphire blue eyes are thoughtful and serious. "Katniss, I told you that night it didn't matter. The only thing I wish is that you and Peeta and Gale and Johanna hadn't run off without the rest of us. It was dangerous."

I know that there's no point on arguing with her; I already tried and it didn't work out. "I know," I say to her benefit. "But right then it didn't seem dangerous-or at least, it did, but I didn't have time to think about how dangerous it really was. I just wanted to find whatever killed Rye." Part of it it's true. I already knew it was dangerous; but as I said, there was no time on thinking about it.

I see Madge and Annie trade a glance; Madge surprised and Annie rather smug. I feel vaguely uncomfortable not knowing what that means. "Did Peeta tell you anything about what we were talking about out in the cemetery?" I ask Annie. "About Clove and Delly?"

Annie nods. "Yes. But it's all ridiculous, you know. Delly would never do anything like that, and as for Clove . . . well, she may be difficult at times, but she certainly isn't capable of killing anybody."

I open my mouth, and find myself looking at Madge, whose blue eyes now reflect something like head-shaking cynicism. I look back at Annie quickly and say, "No, I'm sure you're right," but I'm not. Madge is right; Annie is too trusting, too naive.

Ms. Trinket is starting class. Prim and Madge turn around, and I open my book and try to keep my mind on history.

That entire school week was strange. Rye's death has done something to the outsider students; it's different than the other deaths. Bonnie had been a Club member, or practically, and the principal hadn't been very popular. But Rye was a football hero, one of their own, a guy just about everyone liked and admired. His death upset people in a different way.

The whispers started quietly. But by Wednesday people was saying openly that Clove and the Club had killed Rye. Tension was building between us and the rest of the school. Only Annie seemed unaware of it, looking shocked when Madge suggested that the Circle might not be welcome at Rye's funeral. "We have to go," she said, and we did go, except Clove.

As for Clove . . . Clove spent the week quietly seething. She hasn't forgiven Glimmer and Johanna for helping me to get me ready for the dance, she hasn't forgiven Gale for snubbing her, and she hasn't forgiven the rest of us for witnessing her humiliation. The only people she isn't furious with are the Henderson brothers. When Rye's death was mentioned, she looked hard and secretive.

But, for the moment, Clove seems to be leaving us alone.

It's Friday afternoon, car-pooling home after school, that Prim mentions the Halloween dance.

"Of course you're coming, Katniss," she says as they drop me off at Number Twelve. "You have to. And you've got plenty of time, two weeks, to think of somebody to ask."

I walk into the house with my legs feeling weak. Another dance? I can't believe it. One thing I know: It can't be anything like the last one. I won't let it be. I know that trying to convince that I'm not going isn't going to work. Do this means that I'll have do what Prim said? Find somebody to go with? If I do it then I'd just stick with him the entire time; I don't want to be the belle of the ball again.

No, that can't happen. I need some guy to be an escort and nothing else. Some guy who would absolutely not get interested in me, under any circumstances. Some guy who'd be completely indifferent. . .

_'Maybe I'll go with Peeta again…'_ A voice inside of me says. It could be an option but I don't think that that is going to help us to keep a low profile. I groan in frustration.

I decided to walk up Crowhaven Road to take fresh air.

The sun had just set and the color is draining out of everything. It gets dark so early these days, just when the roar of a motor caught my attention.

It's a black Suzuki Samurai with the license plate FLIP ME. The Henderson brothers are in it, Cato driving too fast. As soon as they spot me, they pull over and stuck their heads out the windows, shouting comments.

"Hey, what's a nice girl like you doing in a neighborhood like this?" "You wanna party, Kat?" "C'mon, baby, we can show you a good time!" I roll my eyes at their attempts to make me feel uncomfortable, but something makes me look up into Cato's tilted blue-green eyes, I shrug and say, "Sure."

They stare at me, mouth open. Then Marvel bursts into laughter.

"Cool; get in," he says, and opens the passenger side door.

"Wait a minute," Doug begins, frowning, but I'm already getting in, Marvel helping me up the high step.

"Where are we going?" I ask as we roar off. Marvel and Cato look at each other cagily.

"Gonna buy some pumpkins for Halloween," Marvel says.

"Buy pumpkins?" I ask not fully convinced.

"Well, not buy, exactly," Marvel temporizes.

For some reason, at this particular moment, it struck me as funny. I begin to chuckle. Marvel grins.

"We're goin' down to Salem," he explains. "They have the best pumpkin patches to raid. And if we get done early enough we can hide in the Witch Dungeon and scare the tourists."

_'The Witch Dungeon?'_ I think to myself, but all I say is, "Okay."

The floor of the mini jeep is litter with bottles, bits of pipe, rags, Dunkin' Donut bags, unraveling cassette tapes, and raunchy magazines. Marvel was explaining to me about how to construct a pipe bomb when we reached the pumpkin patch.

"Okay, now, shut up," Cato says. "We've gotta go around back." He turns the lights and engine off and cruise.

The pumpkin patch is a huge fenced enclosure full of pumpkins, some piled up, some scattered across the ground; there is a path under the fence where you could go easily under it. Cato stops the Samurai just behind a large pile by the booth where you pay for the pumpkins. It is fully dark now, and the light from the enclosure doesn't quite reach us.

"Over the fence," Marvel mouths, and to me: "Stay here." I try to not to feel insulted by the fact that they don't want me to climb. Chris laid his jacket on it and the two boys swarm over with a little difficult because of the wire on the top. I roll my eyes at them with a chuckle. They seriously didn't notice the hole on the fence.

Then they calmly start handing pumpkins over the fence. Marvel gives them to Cato, who stands on the pile and drops them to me on the other side, motioning me to put them in the back seat of the jeep.

_'What on earth do they want with all of these, anyway?' _I wonder dizzily as I stag back with armload after armload. '_Can you make a bomb out of a pumpkin?'_

"Okay," Marvel hisses at last. "That's enough." He swarms back over the fence. Cato starts to climb over too, but just at that moment there is a frenzied barking and a large black dog with wiry legs appeared.

"Help!" squawks Cato. He got caught hanging over the top of the fence. The Doberman has him by the boot and is worrying it furiously, snarling; it looks really big to be a dog. A man explodes out of the booth and begins to yell at us and shaking his fist.

"Help! Help!" Cato shouts. He starts to giggle and then yelps, "Ow! He's taking my foot off! Ow! Help!"

Marvel, his strange slanted eyes glittering wildly, rushes back to the jeep. "Going kill that dog," he says breathlessly. "Where's that army pistol?"

"Hold on, Max! Hold him till I get my shotgun!" the man is yelling.

"Ow! He's chewing on me! It hurts, man!" Cato bellows.

"Don't kill the dog! We can just give him this," I say, suddenly inspired. I snatch up a Dunkin' Donuts bag with several stale doughnuts in it. While Marvel is still looking for a gun, I run back to the fence.

"Here, doggy, nice doggy," I gasp. The dog snarls. Cato continues bellowing; the pumpkin man continues yelling. "Good dog," I tell the Doberman desperately. "Good boy, here, look, doughnuts, see? Want a doughnut?" But he didn't listened to me, so I shout, "Come here! NOW."

At the same time, I do-I don't know what. I do . . . something . . . with my mind. I can feel it going out of me like a blast of heat. It hits the dog and the dog lets go of Cato's foot, hind legs collapsing.

Belly almost on the ground, it slunk over to the fence and crouches.

I feel tall and powerful. I say, "Good dog," and toss the doughnut bag over the fence. Cato is scrambling over in the other direction, almost falling on his head. The dog lays down and whines pitifully, ignoring the doughnuts.

"Let's go," Cato yells. "Come on, Marvel! We don't need to kill anybody!"

Between us, he and I bundle the protesting Marvel into the jeep and Cato drives off. The pumpkin-seller runs after us with his shotgun, but when we reach the road he gives up the chase.

"Ow," Cato says, shaking his foot and causing the jeep to veer.

Marvel mutters to himself. I lean back and sigh.

"Okay," Cato says cheerfully, "now let's go to the Witch Dungeon."

The Salem Witch Dungeon Museum looks like a house from the outside. Marvel and Cato seem to know the layout well, and I follow them around the house, where we slipped in a back entrance.

Through a doorway I get a glimpse of what seems to be a small theater. "That's where they do the witch trials," Marvel says. "You know, like a play for the tourists. Then they take them down here."

A flight of narrow stairs plunge down into darkness.

"Why?" I say.

"It's the dungeon. They give them a tour. We hide in the corners and jump up and yell when they get close. Some of them practically have heart attacks," Cato says, with his mad grin.

I can see how that might happen. As we make our way down the stairs it gets darker and darker. A dank, musty odor assaults my nostrils and the air feels very cool. A narrow corridor stretches forward into the blackness, which is broken only by tiny lights at long intervals. Small cells open out from either side of the corridor. The whole place has a heavy, underground feel to it.

_'It's like the boiler room,_' I think. '_Like being locked underground._' My feet stop moving. I've always hated the fact of being underground, it makes me feel sick.

"Come on, what's wrong?" Cato whispers, turning around. I can barely see him. Marvel comes back to the foot of the stairs and looks into my face. "We don't have to go in there yet," he says. "We can wait here till they start to come down."

I nod at him gratefully. It's bad enough standing on the edge of this terrible place. I don't want to go in until I absolutely had to.

"Or ..." Marvel seems to be engaging in some prodigious feat of thought. "Or . . . we could just leave, you know."

"Leave now? Why?" Cato demands, running back.

"Because ..." Marvel stares at him. "Because . . . because I say so!"

"You? Who cares what you say?" Cato returns in a whispering shout and the two of them begin to scuffle.

Huh, I always thought that they were more… scary. I guess I was wrong.

"It's all right," I say, to stop their fighting. "We can stay. I'll just sit down on the stairs."

Out of breath, they sit down too, Cato massaging the toe of his boot.

I lean against the wall and shut my eyes. I can hear voices from above, someone talking about the Salem witch trials, but only snatches of the lecture get through to me. I'm drained from everything that has happened today, and this dreadful place makes me feel sick and fuzzy. As if I had cobwebs in my brain.

A woman's voice is saying, ". . . the royal governor, Sir William Phips, established a special court to deal with the cases. By now there were so many accused witches . . ."

_'So many fake witches,'_ I think hazily, half listening. If that woman only knew about the real witches lurking in her dungeon.

". . . on June tenth, the first of the convicted witches was publicly executed. Bridget Bishop was hung on Gallows Hill, just outside of Salem.. ."

_'Poor Bridget Bishop,'_ I think. I have a sudden vision of Rye's swinging feet and a wave of nausea passes over me. Probably Bridget's feet had been swinging when they hung her, too.

". . . by the end of September eighteen other people had been hung. Sarah Goode's last words ..."

_'Eighteen. That's a lot of swinging feet.'_ I think. God I don't feel well.

". . . and a nineteenth victim was pressed to death. Pressing was a form of Puritan torture in which a board was placed on the victim's chest, and then heavier and heavier rocks were piled on top of the board ..."

Ugh. Now I really don't feel well. Wonder how it feels to have rocks piled on you till you die? Guess I'll never know since that doesn't happen much today. Unless you happen to be caught in a rockslide, or something ...

With a jerk, I sit up straight, the cobwebs swept out of my brain as if by a blast of icy wind.

Rockslide. Avalanche. Mr. Snow, the high-school principal, was found out what it was like to have rocks piled on you till you died.

Weird coincidence. That was all it was. But...

Oh, my God, I feel as if my entire body is plugged into something electric. My thoughts are tumbling over each other.

Rockslide. Pressed to death. Same thing, really. And hanging. The witches were hanged . . . just like Jeffrey Lovejoy. Oh, God, oh, God. There has to be a connection.

"... never know how many died in prison. In comparison to the conditions there, the swift oblivion of a broken neck may have been merciful. Our tour will now take you-"

Broken neck. A broken neck.

Bonnie's neck had been broken.

I feel like I'm going to faint.

The voices from above are getting nearer. I can't move; a gray blanket seems to have enfolded my senses. Marvel is pulling at my arm.

"C'mon, Katniss! They're comin'!"

Faintly, I hear from above: "If you'll line up in single file, we'll be going down a narrow stairway ..."

Marvel is pulling me off the narrow stairway. "Hey, Cato, give me a hand here!"

I make a supreme effort. "We have to go home," I say urgently to Marvel. I make myself stand up and try to speak with authority. "I have to go back and tell Annie-something- right now."

The brothers look at each other, perplexed but dimly impressed.

"Okay," Marvel says, and I sag, the grayness washing over me again.

With Cato pulling in front and Marvel trying to prop me up from behind, they lead me rapidly through the dark, winding corridors of the dungeon. We seem as comfortable in the darkness as rats, and they guided me unerringly through the passageways until a neon sign announced exit.

On the drive north, the pumpkins thump and roll in the back seat like a load of severed heads.

I keep my eyes shut and try to breathe normally. The one thing I know is that I can't tell the Henderson brothers what I'm thinking. If they find out what I suspect about Bonnie, anything might happen.

"Just drop me off at Annie's," I say when we finally returned to Crowhaven Road. "No-you don't have to go in with me. Thanks."

"Okay," Cato says, and they let me off. Then he stocks his head back out the window. "Uh, hey-thanks for getting that mutt off me," he says.

"Sure," I say light-headedly. "Any time." As they roll away I realized they had never even asked me why I needed to talk to Annie. Maybe they are so used to doing inexplicable things themselves that they didn't wonder when other people did.

Mr. Cresta answers the door, and I realize that it must be late if he is home from the office.

He calls up to Annie as I climb the stairs.

"Katniss!" Annie says, jumping up as she sees my face. "What's the matter?"

Finnick and Peeta were sitting on the bed; they rise too, looking alarmed.

"I know it's late-I'm sorry-but we have to talk. I was in the Witch Dungeon-"

"You were where? Here, take this; your hands are like ice. Now start over again, slowly," Annie says, making me sit down and wrapping me in a sweater.

Slowly, I tell them the story: how Marvel and Cato had picked me up and taken me to Salem. I left out the part about the pumpkin patch, but say how we'd gone to the Witch Dungeon, and how, listening to the lecture, I had suddenly seen the connection. Pressing to death rockslides; hanging-broken necks. Peeta's face was on a deep frown, when I mentioned that I went with them to that place, he gave a stern look. We'll have to talk about it later.

"But what does it mean?" Annie says when I finished.

"I don't know, exactly," I admit. "But it looks like there's some connection between the three deaths and the way Puritans used to punish people."

"The dark energy is the connection," Finnick says quietly. "That skull was used by the original coven, which lived in the time of the witch trials."

"But that wouldn't account for Bonnie," Annie protests. "We didn't activate the skull until after Bonnie was dead."

Peeta is pale. "No. But I found the skull the day before Bonnie died. I took it out of the sand . . ." His beautiful eyes meet mines, and I have a terrible feeling of dismay.

"Sand. To Hold Evil Harmless,'" I whisper. I look at Annie. "That's in your Book of Shadows. Burying an object in sand or earth to hold the evil in it harmless. Just like Peeta found it."

"Yes. And you think that when I took it out, that alone activated it. But that would mean the skull would have to be so strong, so powerful . . ." Peeta's voice trails off. I can see he's trying to fight the idea; he doesn't want to believe it. "I did feel something when I pulled it out of that hole," he adds quietly. "I felt dizzy, strange. That could have been from dark energy escaping." He looks at me. "So you think that energy came to New Salem and killed Bonnie."

"I-don't know what to think," I say wretchedly. "I don't know why it would. But it can't be coincidence that every single time we interact with the skull, somebody dies afterward, in a way that the Puritans used to kill witches."

"But don't you see," Annie says excitedly, "it isn't every time. Nobody used the skull right before Rye died. It was absolutely safe-" She hesitates and then goes on quickly. "Well, of course I can tell you three-it was safe out on the beach. It's still buried there now. I've been checking it every few days. So there isn't a one-to-one correspondence."

I think about it for a moment; she's right about that. I was so sure that the skull had something to do with it. Then a picture comes to my head, Clove had been very quietly lately. I still remember how she looked at Annie's neck where the key was…

No, it's ridiculous. She wouldn't do that, she wouldn't betray the club like that, or would she? If it somehow she did it, how did she find it? Well, I knew it was on the sand because of the book of shadows and I'm more than sure that she knows that so, did she do it?

"Maybe someone did use it," I say quickly.

Three pair of eyes turn to me.

"That's not possible," Says Annie. "How would they find it? And more importantly, who?"

"I say Clove did it." At the moment I hear those words I think they come from my mouth, but then I realize that I didn't say anything, but Finnick did. We all turn to him. "Think about it. She wanted the skull since Peeta pulled it out of his backpack that night. She was the one that made us use it in the first place. And on the first week, she decided to come and visit you; she was looking around the room like a crazy, I'm sure she was looking for it."

I didn't knew the last part, but that only helps me to confirm my suspicious.

"She wouldn't do it!" Cries Annie. "She's a member of the Club! And my cousin too, she wouldn't!"

"Calm down, Annie," Finnick says. "Look, I wish it wasn't true, but the whole thing has Clove's name on it."

"He's right," Peeta says. "Still we can't just jump on conclusions. We don't really know what's going on, for all we know she's innocent." He puts a reassuring hand on Annie's shoulder. "We'll find out."

She nods slowly.

"I think we'd better stop thinking about whose fault it is, and start thinking about what to do," I say. "If the dark energy that escaped at the ceremony killed both Mr. Snow and Rye, it may still be out there. It may do something else. We need to think about ways to stop it." They nod on agreement.

We talk for several hours after that. Peeta thought we should search for the dark energy, maybe do some scrying around the graveyard. Annie thought we should continue combing all the Books of Shadows, even the most indecipherable ones, to see if there was any advice about dealing with evil like this, and to learn more about the skull.

"And about Black John, too," I suggest mechanically, and the three of them agree. Black John had used the skull in the beginning, had "programmed" it. Perhaps his intentions are still affecting it.

Annie is nice when the time came for us to go. "Peeta had better drive you home," she says.

He does. We don't speak until we reach my house. He goes out of the car and opens the door for me, when we're on the front door of my, I turn to him to say goodnight, but he immediately takes me in his arms, I don't protest.

Peeta is the first one to break the silence. "I can't believe that you went with the Hendersons, do you realize how dangerous that was?"

I huff and look at him, I know I should be angry at him for worrying too much, I want to be angry. But I can't seem to bring myself to it. "It's okay. I'm here, and it wasn't dangerous."

He sighs. "Sorry, I guess you're right." I shake my head and kiss his cheek.

"You don't have to apologize. You were worried, I understand. After all its Marvel and Cato that we're talking about." I say with a slight smile.

I feel relieve when he returns it. He rests his forehead against mine and closes his eyes. I've come used to this; to us, being close. I feel complete when we're like this, like it was meant to be. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at that last thought.

But I realize something; I've been a better person ever since I'm with him. I've become attached to him so fast that scares the hell out of me. He's the only thing on my mind most of the time. I feel happy when I'm with him; and when I'm on his arms like we're right now, I feel safe.

And for the first time in my life I'm completely sure about something.

I'm falling for Peeta Mellark.  
**So that's Chapter Twelve! Please Review and if you want to yell at me for the lack of update, go ahead, I deserve it. Also 160 days till the Catching Fire Premiere! Review if you want me to continue the story.**

**Lots of love,**

**Fantasydream17**


	13. Really Important Author's Note, Goodbye

**Hey, so it's Friday. This is not a Chapter and you shouldn't be surprised. Last Friday I posted Chapter Twelve, and well, I'm disappointed and sad because I only got one review, and it was from a Guest (Thanks to that person by the way), I was... expecting... more, I suppose? Well, I know a lot of you are mad at me for not updating in a really long time, still, why not a review?**

**Then I got a Review from chapter one, and it said that it was the secret circle story, and I want to say that I had already said that in the beginning, that's why it's a crossover.**

**Anyway, I also got a few Private Messages (I'm not going to say who, the ones who did it know exactly who I'm talking about) in which it said that I had taken so long on updating and that I shouldn't even bother to keep going with the story, and maybe they are right, I don't know.**

**A lot of you have show that You don't care and I have a lot of things to do, so I suppose that this is for the best.**

**I'm probably going to stop writing this story and delete it. Sorry for those who cared about it. I say "cared" because you just proved that you do not care anymore. I know that I said that I was going to keep it up no matter what, but what's the point?**

**I'm grateful for the ones that like it and support it.**

**This is the goodbye, I think. May the odds be ever in your favor.**

**Love you all,**

**Fantasydream17**


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